A Matter of Trust
by Sloane Ranger
Summary: Is SecNav Sheffield corrupt? Harm and Mac and the rest of JAG don't think so.
1. Chapter 1

I've always been a fan of Dean Stockwell's since seeing him in Quantum Leap. He brings such energy and depth to each role he plays. Having just got cable I was able to watch him in the later seasons of JAG and I wasn't disappointed. I loved the interaction between him and the JAG characters and I wanted more. Unfortunately, there isn't any so I made some myself. If you like it, tell your friends, if you don't, please tell me.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any rights to this programme and I make no claims I do.

**A MATTER OF TRUST**

**Admiral Chegwidden's office**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**08:15 ZULU**

Admiral A.J. Chegwidden scrawled his name on the document, tossed it into the out tray and picked up the next file with a sigh. As he began to read, the phone rang, Chigwidden glared at it as he impatiently punched the loudspeaker attachment. He kept the irritation out of his voice; however, the call had come directly through to his phone, not through the switchboard or his Yeoman. Only a limited number of close personal friends and senior officials had access to his direct number.

"Chegwidden." he said.

He recognized the voice at the other end as soon as she started talking. SecNav Sheffield's P.A. What was her name? Marcia, Maggie, Marge?

"Admiral? This is Marcie Alverez, from the Secretary of the Navy's private office."

Marcie, that was her name! "Yes?" he responded.

"I'm sorry but the SecNav will have to cancel your 10:00 meeting."

"OK. Thanks for letting me know." he replied. Then he paused. As the man responsible for overseeing almost every aspect of the United States Navy and Marine Corps, the SecNav was a busy man. Having meetings with him cancelled at short notice was not unusual. This time, however, there was something in the P.A.'s voice that indicated this was different. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

There was a long silence before she answered and, when she did, her distress was evident. "I've been ordered not to say anything." she said before quickly putting down the phone.

A.J. leaned back and considered. _"I've been ordered not to say anything." _sounded ominous.He knew that the SecNav had not been the President or Secretary of Defense's choice for the job. In fact, Sheffield had used the power of his Senate office and role on the Intelligence Committee to strong-arm the administration into giving him the job. He wondered if Marcie's distress was the result of some political maneuvering that finally allowed them to get rid of him. Marcie had been one of a number of people Sheffield had brought with him from the Senate. She had been with him for years. It would be understandable for her to be upset if he were to lose his job after giving up his Senate seat.

The Admiral hoped he was wrong. Despite an extremely rocky start, they had slowly built up a relationship and, while they would never be close friends, Chegwidden had come to respect the tough-minded, decisive man who had been his boss for the past months and considered him the best SecNav the Service had had for a long time.

Then mentally he shrugged and went back to his paperwork. _I'm probably reading far too much into this_ he told himself. _Whatever's happened, I'll hear about it eventually_ he decided before giving his full attention to the papers in the Mueller case.

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**Corridor**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**11:52 ZULU**

Commander Harman Rabb Jr. stood outside the courtroom looking glumly towards Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie who was shaking the hand of a young marine lance corporal. Finally, with a broad grin, the marine stepped back, saluted her crisply and marched away.

Mac turned towards him with a self satisfied look on her face. As she came level he fell into step as they made their way back to the bullpen.

"I don't see why you're looking so smug." he grumbled. "You've just helped set a self confessed thief loose."

"Didn't I just prove that he's a young man who acted in the highest traditions of the Corps, not a thief?" she replied with an amused glance towards him. ""His unit was due to be deployed to Iraq and a bureaucratic SNAFU led to their combat rations being delivered to a unit that had just been rotated stateside. Using his initiative, Lance Corporal Henderson liberated those rations and delivered them to his unit, where they should have been anyway."

"Yeah right, you did look at his juvenile record?" Harm asked cynically.

Mac chuckled, "All power to the Marines," she responded, "for taking a troubled young man and finding a socially approved outlet for his talents."

"He'll be back." Harm predicted good naturedly as they entered the bullpen, only to stop short.

Normally the general office was a hive of activity and noise with lawyers, paralegals and other staff going about their business, discussing cases or just passing the time of day but now it was eerily quiet, except for the sound coming from the TV, round which everybody, including the Admiral, were crowded.

Trying to push back their fears of another terrorist attack, Harm and Mac joined the huddle.

"What's going on Bud?" Mac whispered to Lieutenant Bud Roberts, who was standing on the edge of the crowd.

"It's the SecNav, Colonel." Bud whispered back as he moved slightly, allowing then to see the TV screen clearly.

The picture showed a figure they both instantly recognized as a Pentagon spokesperson standing behind a podium. He was evidently giving some sort of press briefing.

"… _so, in the circumstances, the Secretary of Defense has accepted the Secretary of the Navy's request for a leave of absence until this matter is resolved." _he concluded_, "I'll take questions now."_

The picture cut to the ZNN studio and Dianne Wallace, their anchorwoman who obligingly summarized the situation. "That was the Pentagon's reaction to news today that a secret Federal Grand Jury into Congressional corruption has issued indictments against, among others, Secretary of the Navy, Edward Sheffield for receiving bribes when he was a U.S. Senator. Secretary Sheffield has previously been in the news for his controversial decision to travel to The Hague to answer charges of war crimes and crimes against humanity laid against the U.S. in the International Criminal Court. It looks like his experiences as a criminal defendant are not over yet! Now, on to other breaking stories …"

The bullpen erupted into animated conversation as Admiral Chegwidden signaled for the sound to be turned down while Harm and Mac looked at each other in disbelief.

The admiral took a few steps towards his office then turned to face his staff. "Quiet!" he snapped, then when he had everyone's attention, he continued, "I know you are all concerned about the implications of this for the Navy and Marine Corps in general and this office in particular but we have work to do, let's get back to it. You can discuss and speculate all you like when you're off duty."

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**Commander Harmon Rabb Jr's office**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**14:15 ZULU**

Despite the Admiral's instructions, discussions about the SecNav's situation had continued but in a more restrained manner. As the officers responsible for defending him in The Hague, Harm and Mac had found themselves beset on all sides by people wanting their opinions on the indictments and the man himself. Finally, they had retreated to Harm's office with a select group consisting of Bud Roberts, his wife, Harriet and Commander Sturgis Turner.

"…I find it difficult to believe he would sell his vote for money." Mac was saying, "He's ruthless, manipulative and unscrupulous, you only have to look at how he orchestrated Nelson's fall to see that, but, in a strange way, he's also a man of principle. He was ready to sacrifice himself at The Hague for what he believed in. That doesn't seem to me like the behavior of a man who'd accept bribes from defense contractors."

"Yeah, but then you think some juvenile delinquent was only trying to do right by his unit." Harm responded with a good natured grin at his partner. "What I don't believe is that he'd allow himself to get caught. He's one of the smoothest operators in Washington."

"It only takes one mistake." Turner pointed out. "You know what they say, the cops only have to get lucky once, if you're a criminal you have to be lucky all the time. And people have an incredible ability to rationalize their behavior. How many times have we had guys through here, guilty of the most terrible crimes, who seem to have convinced themselves they were perfectly entitled to do what they did?"

Just then there was a knock on the door and P.O. Jennifer Coates, the Admiral's Yeoman, poked her head around the door. "Ma'ams, Sirs," she said shyly, "the Admiral sent me out for the newspapers. I thought you might like a set too."

She handed the papers to Harriet and closed the door behind her. Everyone took a copy and unfolded it. The headlines screamed at them in big black type. The _Washington Bugle_ had really gone to town, it's front cover was taken up entirely by mug-shot like photographs of the SecNav and the other indictees with the word _'Indicted'_ stamped across each one in thick red ink. The others were more restrained but it was the lead story in each, taking up most of the front page and several inner pages.

Bud Roberts leafed through his paper until he found details of the indictments. "He's being charged with three counts of bribe-taking," he noted, "All relating to a defense contractor called Sensa-Tech. They're alleging he took $300,000 to vote in favor of them getting a contract for a new missile guidance system, the same amount to torpedo a bid from one of Sensa-Tech's competitors to provide a new computer system and $500,000 to tack an amendment onto a Finance Bill allowing them to buy a parcel of Federal land at rock bottom prices for a manufacturing facility. Apparently it was all disguised as campaign contributions."

Harriet frowned, "Sensa-Tech." she said, "That name rings a bell but I can't think why! Hang on! I think former SecNav Nelson is on their Board of Directors!"

Harm turned to his P.C. and brought up the web page for the corporation. "Sensa-Tech, for the best defense technology in the world." he read aloud. After a few further clicks he looked up, an odd expression on his face. "So he is, Harriet. Well, isn't that interesting?"

"It could be a coincidence Harm," Mac pointed out, "after all, the defense industry may be big but it has only a small number of major players and besides, the allegations all relate to before Nelson joined the Board."

"Do you really think that?" Harm asked her.

"Well," she replied with a slight smile, "like you said, it's interesting."

She and Harm exchanged a long look of total mutual understanding.

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**Admiral Chegwidden's office**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**14:30 ZULU**

A.J. sat behind his desk, studying the front cover of the _Bugle_. He had already read the story on pages 2,3,4,5 and the editorial on page 7. Aside from Sheffield, five other people had been indicted, two were former executives of Sensa-Tech, two were congressmen and the other, a congressional aide. The congressmen were Burman and Manheim, A.J. knew them quite well and considered them lightweights. He wasn't surprised to find them in this position as he'd always felt they had been out for the main chance, rather than the good of their country but he had been surprised that they were linked to the allegations against the SecNav since he knew they had not been close to him politically or personally.

The stories had been heavy on sensationalism but light on specific details of the evidence against the defendants but, reading between the lines and using his experience as a trial lawyer, he'd gathered that the case against the SecNav in particular was heavily circumstantial. Alone, that meant nothing, he'd tried enough cases himself using circumstantial evidence to know that it could be as effective in gaining a conviction as direct evidence, but it gave him hope of Sheffield's innocence. He hated to think he could have been so wrong about anyone.

There was a knock on the door and he looked up, "Come in." he called.

Harmon Rabb and Sarah Mackenzie entered and stood before him.

"Admiral," Harm began, "We've just found out that ex SecNav Nelson is connected to Sensa-Tech. It might be nothing, but, on the other hand …" He let the rest of the sentence trail off

A.J. knew what Harm was getting at. Sheffield had been responsible for Nelson losing his job. There was no love lost between them.

"We know it's not exactly usual but we'd like permission to do some digging." added Mac. "If Sheffield is being set up somehow, maybe we can find out and get the indictment quashed. It's not good for the Navy or the Marine Corps for the SecNav to be absent, especially under these circumstances."

Chegwidden considered them, "And what if he's guilty?" he asked. "An unauthorized investigation could jeopardize the prosecution's case and damage this office's relationship with the U.S. Attorney's Office." He sighed, "I've got the same feeling that something is wrong here that you have but I'm not prepared to put this office on the line until I'm sure."

A.J. came to a decision, "I'm going to see Sheffield. I think I know him well enough now to know when he's telling the truth, hold fire until you hear from me."

He watched as they saluted and left; then consulted his address book.

T.B.C.


	2. Chapter 2

Here, finally is the second chapter of this fic, sorry for the delay but real life got hectic for a while. Thank you everyone for your reviews. Just a few responses to points made:-

**McRose – **yes,I'm trying to keep it as topical as possible but hopefully without just copying from the latest headlines. Ironically though, I wrote the bit about campaign finance, then opened USA Today to find the Supreme Court had only just made a ruling on that very subject. Scary!

**Alix33 **- sorry, I'm British so I didn't know what the correct way to address a female officer in the U.S. Navy is. I've since learned this and I will make the necessary amendments to Chapter 1. The Encarta dictionary defines a paralegal as somebody with specialist legal training who assists a fully qualified lawyer. Hope that helps.

Now on to the story, hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 2**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**21:41 ZULU**

The bullpen was in semi-darkness and only a handful of the lawyers' private offices showed a light as the cleaners emptied trash bins and gave the desks a desultory swipe with their cloths.

Apart from the tapping of their keyboards, the only noise to be heard was came from the cleaners and the distant hum of a vacuum cleaner. Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie paused to stretch her arms. Although neither she nor her partner would have dreamed of disobeying a direct order from their superior officer, they had both concluded that researching information already in the public record did not constitute an 'investigation'. After all, they reasoned, the Congressional Record was published precisely so citizens could read debates and discover the positions taken by their elected representatives, they were citizens and therefore had every right to consult it, even if they were concentrating on one particular Senator and three specific issues.

"I've always known that politics and money were inseparable," Mac remarked, "but reading these financial disclosure reports has really brought it home to me. Do you want to know how much Sheffield received in his last year as a Senator? $5.5 million and it wasn't even an election year! The bulk of it came from corporations and special interest groups. That certainly puts these allegations in context."

Harm looked up from his screen, "I was once on a course with a British Royal Naval officer during a Presidential election. He couldn't understand how we could spend so much money on elections. Over there, candidates are only allowed to spend $10 thousand plus $1 for every voter. He told me that allowed candidates whose views were unlikely to attract support from business or special interests the opportunity to explain their positions to voters. He thought such people were drowned out by those with big war chests here in the U.S."

Mac nodded, "I hate to say it but after going through various campaign finance reports I think the Brits may be on to something. These big contributors must expect something back for their money; the likes of the NRA and the ACLU aren't doling out money on this scale out of the kindness of their hearts!"

"The Supreme Court has ruled it's a Freedom of Speech issue," Harm reminded her, "and anyway, who's to say these groups aren't just financially assisting candidates who are already sympathetic to their position? Did you pick up anything from Sheffield's financials?"

Mac shook her head, "Yes and no. Sensa-Tech did donate the amounts mentioned in the indictments and they're fully recorded in the reports. In terms of timing, two of the donations were given in the weeks before the vote, the remaining one, about a month after he added the amendment to the Bill allowing them to buy Federal land at a discount. Sensa-Tech also donated other amounts to his campaign fund but there's no connection between them and any action on Sheffield's part that I can see. I've also benchmarked his financial statements against a number of other Senators from both parties and they appear standard. What about the debates?"

"Nothing there either, in fact he makes a persuasive case for his position on each issue."

"He would. He could sell coal to Pennsylvania if he wanted, he's a politician. That means nothing. We need to dig deeper, pardon the pun!" Mac replied.

Harm gave her a quizzical look, "Granted," he said, "All we need now is the Admiral's OK." He looked at his watch, "He should be with Sheffield now."

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**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**21:23 ZULU**

The Admiral drove slowly along the road. SecNav Sheffield's home was located in an area of the county that still retained its rural feel. He had never been there before and didn't want to miss the turning. He had debated with himself whether to call ahead and say he was coming but had decided against it. Sheffield would have asked too many questions. Beside, he was more likely to get a truthful reaction if the SecNav hadn't had time to prepare for the meeting. He had left it late, after the events of the day he doubted whether anyone in the Sheffield household would be thinking about turning in early and he hoped that most, at least, of the media pack that had been camped outside Sheffield's home since the indictments were made public would have given up and slithered back under whatever stone they occupied for the night. Not that he was trying to hide his visit; he just didn't want to draw attention to it either. Although there was nothing illegal or unethical in him seeing Sheffield, the appearance of the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy at his home would only fuel the media's feeding frenzy. For the same reason, he had gone home and changed into civilian clothes before setting out.

He found the turning and was pleased to note that only a couple of cars and T.V. vans remained outside the entrance to the driveway, their occupants looking sleepy and bored. He was past them before they had a chance to catch his license plate. The house loomed ahead; it was a pleasant looking Tudor style building, spacious but far from luxurious. A.J. knew that Sheffield had lived there since shortly after being elected to the Senate for the first time, nearly twenty years ago. As he'd expected the downstairs lights were still on.

_If Sheffield's been taking pay offs, its' certainly not affected his lifestyle, _he thought.

A.J. pulled up, got out of the car, walked to the front door, pressed the bell and waited. There was a short pause, then the sound of footsteps approaching.

"Please go away." a woman's voice called through the door. "We'll be issuing a statement through our lawyers in the morning."

A.J. recognized the voice from various Receptions and parties he'd attended. "Mrs. Sheffield," he called, "Its' Admiral Chegwidden. I'd like to speak to your husband if I may."

Silence followed, then there was the sound of the key turning in the lock and the door opened a crack. A woman studied him through it. Satisfied, she opened the door wider, allowing him to enter.

Standing in the reception area, Chegwidden had his first clear view of Mrs. Sheffield since the indictment of her husband had been announced. She was a kind looking, pleasant faced woman in her mid fifties. Although not traditionally beautiful, she had always had a presence and dignity about her. Tonight she was holding on to them by only the barest finger-touch. Her eyes were glassy, as if she were in shock and the lines on her face had deepened.

"What do you want with my husband Admiral?" she asked. "I'm sure you already know he's taken a leave of absence and the reasons for it."

A.J. heard anger and betrayal in her voice but couldn't work out who they were directed at. The U.S. Attorney's office for prosecuting her husband when she believed him to be innocent, or Sheffield himself because she knew he'd betrayed everything he appeared to stand for by accepting bribes. _Only time will tell_, he decided. He was about to speak, when Sheffield himself emerged from one of the rooms leading off the reception area, accompanied by a woman in her twenties. Her resemblance to both Sheffield and his wife identified her as their daughter.

"Is everything OK Beth?" Sheffield began, then stopped dead as he recognized Chegwidden. "Admiral," he said, after a beat, "how can I help you?" The question was phrased courteously enough but his manner was guarded.

A.J. had given a lot of thought about how to broach the delicate subject that was his reason for coming here and eventually decided that the truth, or at least a partial version of it, was the best tack. He smiled, "Sir, I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye but I wanted you to know that I have the greatest respect for what you've done over the past months as SecNav. I just wanted to tell you that and say if there's anything I can do personally to help and support you or your family during this difficult time; you only have to ask."

Sheffield's eyes bored into his own and A.J. saw suspicion hardening within them.

"That's very kind of you Admiral," he replied slowly, "but you could have said that over the phone. There was no reason for you to come here and run the risk of being recognized by the media circus outside and dragged into this mess."

"They know their case is a load of crap! He's here to try to trick you into saying something they can make out is incriminating!" Sheffield's daughter burst out. She moved forward to stand between her father and Chegwidden in an instinctively protective gesture. "He's one of them, a government prosecutor!"

_Well there's no question she believes her father's innocent. _A.J. thought.He kept the smile on his face, "Actually, Ms Sheffield, JAG lawyers act as both prosecutors and defense attorneys, we don't specialize and nobody ordered me to come here, you have my word as a naval officer."

She continued to glare at him, clearly not believing a word he said. Sheffield gently moved her out of the way. "It's OK Amy," he said. "Well, as you're here, you might as well have a drink. Come to my study." He led the way. As he passed his wife she reached out and grasped his shoulders, seeking reassurance. Sheffield held her close and kissed her lightly on the forehead, then let her go. "Amy, why don't you and your mother go back to the lounge and try to get hold of your uncle again? He may have returned from his fishing trip by now."

A.J. noted the warmth and mutual support between Mrs. Sheffield and her husband, _she thinks he's innocent too, _he concluded.

As soon as the study door closed behind them, Sheffield turned to him with all his accustomed decisiveness and authority, "My question still stands A.J., why did you come here?"

Chegwidden responded with a question of his own, "Did you know Nelson is on Sensa-Tech's Board of Directors?"

Sheffield nodded, "Yes, of course. I've been wondering whether he had anything to do with setting me up but I can't see how he can. He had no connection with them during the time I allegedly took these bribes."

A.J. took a deep breath; this was the moment of truth. He asked the question, "Did you sell your vote for campaign contributions?"

He studied Sheffield's reaction to the question, the eyes behind his glasses flashed with anger and his face displayed frustration. He drew himself up to his full 5' 6'' height, "No," he said with quiet dignity, "I did not."

The Admiral held Sheffield's eyes with his own for a long moment, then nodded in satisfaction, "I believe you." he said, "Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie had a feeling that something wasn't quite right about this entire scenario and I trust their instincts, especially when they confirm my own. I just had to be sure. If you don't think Nelson's behind this, do you have any other ideas about what is going on?"

Sheffield sighed and motioned A.J. to take a seat. He moved over to a decanter and glasses set on a side table and poured both of them a very weak whisky and water. His smile as he handed A.J. his glass was devoid of humor. "Sorry it's not stronger but you're driving and the way I feel at present, its' best I limit my intake. No, I've been racking my brains ever since the U.S. Attorney's office called my lawyers to say I was going to be named in the indictments but I can't think of anything. I've known about the investigation into Sensa-Tech for some time but I never paid it much attention. Then, out of the blue about ten days ago the U.S. Attorney's office called me to say they had evidence that I'd taken pay offs. They wanted to question me in front of the Grand Jury. I refused on the advice of my lawyers so I can't even guess what this so called evidence is. Then, last night they phoned Tony Bernstein, my attorney, to say I was going to be indicted. They offered me a deal if I'd turn state's evidence but I don't know anything!"

"Sensa-Tech did make contributions to your campaign funds?" Chegwidden asked.

"Yes, but they were all totally legal and fully declared." Sheffield replied.

A.J. nodded. "Rabb and Mackenzie have volunteered to nose around a little and see what they can dig up." he said, "When's the Arraignment?"

Sheffield's face took on a haunted look, "Next Tuesday. I don't know how Beth and Amy will react, especially if Beth's brother continues AWOL. Nothing in their experience has prepared them for anything like this. I'm really worried about them. A lot of our so-called friends are already heading for the hills."

"You're certain to get bail," Chegwidden assured him, "and I'll go to the hearing and sit with them if you like."

Sheffield looked relieved and confused at the same time. "Thank you." he said, "But why are you, Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie getting involved in all this? If the press picks up on it, it could get very ugly for you all."

A.J. shrugged, "Good SecNav's are hard to come by." was all he said.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you once again everybody for your support. Your reviews were really appreciated!

Here is the next chapter, let me know what you think. Just one thing, in the previous chapters I forgot to put in a date for events. I've rectified it with this one. If anyone is interested, chapters 1 and 2 would have both happened on Friday, 3rd May..

**Chapter 3**

**Millie's Pantry**

**Georgetown**

**Washington D.C.**

**Sunday, 5th May, 15:05 ZULU**

"More tea, another muffin?" Harm asked, looking around for a server. Millie's Pantry was a self-consciously quaint establishment, with a Norman Rockwell décor and wholesome looking staff. It sold organic food at highly inflated prices to Washington's political and diplomatic elite. Normally he wouldn't be seen dead in the place but his guest had once told him that it was her favorite coffee shop but she couldn't afford to patronize it as often as she'd like. As he wanted a favor from her, it seemed like a good idea to get her in a good mood before he began.

Assistant U.S. Attorney Samantha Bruckner shook her head, "No thanks. I'm good." She settled back and gave him a half smile, "Now what's all this about? You ring me out of the blue after three years. I'd like to think it was a delayed reaction to my charms but, unfortunately, like this place, I know it's a fantasy, much as I like to indulge it."

Harm gave her his most dazzling smile. Although she had a tendency towards sentimentality, this had always been offset by a wide streak of practicality. "The SevNav." he said simply. "It is **the** water cooler topic of the moment at JAG. I was hoping you'd give me the low down."

Samantha Bruckner nodded with a satisfied expression on her face and Harm remembered that she was also highly intelligent.

She leant towards him, her face taking on a serious look, "Harm, I know you defended this guy at The Hague and you feel protective towards your clients, but trust me on this one, Sheffield is dirty."

"Hey, I'm not putting him up for sainthood!" Harm argued, "I have no doubt that he'd break the law if he thought it was in our country's best interests. It's the idea that he'd sell out for money. That seems out of character for him. Whatever else Sheffield may be, he's a genuine patriot."

Samantha shrugged, "Maybe he rationalized it. Maybe he said to himself we need what Sensa-Tech is selling anyway so why shouldn't I help himself at the same time, or maybe he thought his re-election was in the public interest and their money could help ensure it? Who knows what goes on in other people's heads? We're not saying he's Ted Bundy. I'm sure he has a lot of redeeming features but he's as guilty as hell and we have the guy who actually arranged the bribes for him to prove it."

"You're basing your case on the testimony of a guy who's got every reason to lie?" Harm sounded astonished, "Sam, a guy like that would probably sell out his own mother if he thought it would help him get some sort of deal from you and what about corroboration? The law says you can't just take the word of an accomplice."

"Believe it or not, we in the U.S. Attorney's office are familiar with the law on accomplice testimony." Samantha replied dryly. "We have copies of internal Sensa-Tech memo's supporting his story and we'd already given our guy immunity in return for testifying against Congressmen Burman and Manheim. He gained nothing from implicating Sheffield."

"You have documents implicating Sheffield," Harm interrupted, "Can I see them?"

"Sure, when they're introduced at the trial!" She paused, "Look, I don't know if you wanted this meeting out of curiosity like you said or if you had another reason, but, if you're in contact with Sheffield or you have any influence over him, tell him we know this thing goes wider and, maybe, higher than him. If he co-operates we can work out a very generous deal with minimum jail time. If he takes this to trial, however …well, as the most senior official indicted, we'll go after him with everything we've got. By the time he gets out, he'll be able to go straight from the prison gates to his grandchildren's college graduation!"

Harm nodded slowly as he signaled for the bill, "Thanks for the information and advice Sam." he said, "I'll think over everything you've said very carefully."

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**Secretary of the Navy's Private Office**

**Pentagon**

**Washington D.C.**

**Monday, 6th May, 08:21 ZULU**

"Colonel Mackenzie! Can I help you?" Marcie Alvarez' face, initially suspicious, lit up in genuine welcome. The normally busy office was quiet and empty and her voice echoed through the large expanse.

Mac smiled at her. "Mrs. Alvarez, I'm surprised you remember me!"

"You and Commander Rabb defended Mr. Sheffield before the I.C.C. Of course I'd remember you!" Mrs. Alvarez' voice took on a bitter tone, "You did a great job, I only wish the two of you could take over his defense on these current charges."

"I know Tony Bernstein by reputation." Mac assured her, "He's a top class criminal attorney."

"Maybe, but Mr. Sheffield is just another client to him. He doesn't have the passion and commitment you and Commander Rabb have. I'm not even sure he believes in Mr. Sheffield's innocence."

"You clearly have a lot of respect for your boss. That says a lot about him. Have you been with him long?" Mac gestured towards a chair and sat down on receiving a nod from the other woman.

"Over ten years. He brought his previous P.A. with him to Washington when he was elected as a Senator but she had to return home to look after her ailing father. I got the job then and I've been with him ever since. He can be very demanding and he doesn't suffer fools gladly but, you know, he's very committed to the things he believes in and he communicates that to everyone who works with him. It really inspires you."

"The indictment must have come as a big shock." Mac prompted.

Marcie nodded, "At first I thought it was a mistake and the U.S. Attorney's would quickly realize that Mr. Sheffield would never take a bribe. I never thought they would really indict him. That he could go through the humiliation of a trial! They were here you know, the day he was indicted with a subpoena for his Senate office files, office diary and phone records."

Mac pushed down her disappointment; she should have expected the prosecution to obtain all the documentary evidence. It was standard procedure in cases like this. "I suppose they questioned you as well?" she asked.

"Yeah and they got really upset when I refused to confirm some theories they had. One of them even threatened to indict me as an accomplice. But I told her I was telling the truth and I wasn't going to lie just because she wanted me to! They've left me alone since then!"

"What sort of theories?"

Marcie shrugged, "Oh, like Mr. Sheffield had meetings with Sensa-Tech officials that weren't recorded in the diary or that he had slipped out of the office and had secret meetings with them during periods when his calendar was blank, that sort of thing."

"I don't want to sound like I'm doubting you Marcie, but the indictments relate to events that happened over two years ago. How can you be sure what Mr. Sheffield was doing on a particular day or time after so long?"

"Because shortly after I started there was a fault and the computers went down. Among other things, we lost our access to the appointments calendar. It was a real nightmare, with people turning up for meetings without warning and expecting to discuss issues with Mr. Sheffield that he hadn't been briefed on. After that, I always copied the appointments calendar onto a floppy disc at the end of each day. That way, we had a fallback if it happened again. I also used that disc to record personal details about the person he was seeing, like their partners' name, their children's achievements and any special needs or personality quirks they had. That helped him put people at ease and make them feel welcome but it didn't seem appropriate to put it in the official diary. I was able to refer to those and they helped fill in some of the blanks."

"I suppose the prosecutors took the floppy's as well?" Mac asked without any great hope.

"No. They never asked why I was so certain Mr. Sheffield hadn't had unrecorded meetings and, after the way they accused me of lying, I didn't see why I should volunteer anything to them!"

Mac felt excitement surge through her, "Mrs. Alvarez, Commander Rabb and I also think the SecNav is innocent of these crimes. Would you let us have the floppy discs?"

Marcie smiled at finding a fellow believer, "If you think they can help him, of course I will" she replied.

**Federal Courthouse**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 7th May, 09:55 ZULU**

A.J. helped Beth and Amy Sheffield out of the cab and the media descended on them like a tidal wave. They had finally been able to contact Mrs. Sheffield's brother but he had an important business meeting and was unable to travel to Washington until that evening. Chegwidden had accordingly kept his promise to the SecNav and agreed to accompany his wife and daughter to the Arraignment.

Holding them close, he shouldered his way through the pack, ignoring their shouted questions and occasionally requesting some over enthusiastic newsperson to get out of the way or mutter an apology he didn't mean. In this way they navigated the steps up to the Courthouse and the corridors inside. The courtroom itself was packed, mainly with reporters lucky enough, well connected enough or foresighted enough to get seats. Compared with the melee outside, however, it was a haven of peace and quiet. He sighed with relief and released his grip on his charges. He looked at each of them in turn. Both had stood up to the ordeal better than might have been expected. The glassy look of shock that he'd seen in Mrs. Sheffield's eyes the night of the indictments had disappeared, to be replaced by one of determination. Amy's expression showed that the fight she'd displayed that night hadn't left her but it was more controlled, more directed. She was using her anger rather than letting it control her. He realized that they were both strong women. Once the initial shock had worn off they'd adjusted to the situation and they'd deal with whatever was thrown at them.

As he escorted them down the central aisle to the front row seats directly behind the defense tables that were traditionally reserved for the accused's family and friends, he looked around at the oak paneled walls, hung with paintings of long dead judges. As usual he found the surroundings of a courtroom soothing and he was beginning to relax as he ushered Beth and Amy into their seats. His mood was broken, however, when the SecNav, seated at one of the Defense tables turned and smiled at his wife and daughter. His expression was neutral, difficult to read, but there were worry lines around his eyes and a tension in his body language he couldn't hide. _Given the circumstances, he's unlikely to find the atmosphere relaxing_ Chegwidden thought slightly guiltily. He nodded towards the man who was still, nominally, his boss.

The usher stood up, "All rise for the Honorable Judge, James Cellini." she called and everyone present got to their feet as the judge left his Chambers and walked to the Bench.

Once seated, he looked around, "Be seated." he ordered. "Will the defendants please approach."

Sheffield, his five co-defendants and their lawyers moved to obey. When they were arranged in a line at the rail below his Bench, Judge Cellini ordered the charges to be read. A.J. tuned out until it was Sheffield's turn, he listened as the three charges were recited and heard Sheffield's response of "Not Guilty", given in a clear, steady voice, to each one. This was followed by some minor skirmishing between Tony Bernstein and the U.S. Attorney over bail which ended with Judge Cellini releasing Sheffield on a $50,000 bond. The trial date was set for the 14th August, then the Judge banged his gavel and the hearing was over.

With a reassuring smile towards his family, Sheffield disappeared through a side door with Bernstein to arrange payment of the bond, while A.J., Beth and Amy stayed within the courtroom. The bail was well within the range they'd expected and payment could be made immediately, allowing Sheffield to leave with them and return home.

"I suppose we'll have to run the gauntlet of the media hounds on the way out as well." Amy noted, "But at least Dad will be coming home with us!"

"I can speak to the court officers and arrange for you to leave by another entrance." A.J. offered.

Beth shook her head, "No, avoiding publicity makes it look like we're ashamed of something. I haven't been married to a politician for nearly thirty years without learning that. We'll face them down and use the opportunity to proclaim Eddie's innocence to the world."

As they were speaking, A.J. had seen a whispered conversation taking place between Samantha Bruckner, who he recognized from a case JAG had jointly worked with the U.S. Attorney's office three years previously, and her boss, Deputy U.S. Attorney Paul O'Connell, the chief prosecutor in the case. They were both looking at him.

At the conclusion of the conversation, O'Connell walked over, "Admiral Chegwidden," he said, holding out his hand, "What an unexpected pleasure. I didn't know you were a family friend of the Sheffield's."

A.J. took the offered hand, "Nice to meet you Mr. O'Connell. Actually, my relationship with Mr. Sheffield and his family is of fairly recent standing."

"I see!" was all O'Connell said, but his expression was hard and appraising.

T.B.C.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again thank you everyone for your reviews oft his story. You don't know how much I look forward to them!

Just a few responses to comments made in some of the reviews.

Lynnp – glad that the date had a personal resonance with you. I just chose it at random. Amazing coincidence!

michelle UK – at least some of the answer to your question about A.J. begins to be answered in this chapter. Suffice to say he's going to get into hot water eventually.

McRose – I'm trying to keep it as topical and close to life as possible.

Anyway, here is the new chapter.

**Chapter 4**

**Federal Courthouse**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 7th May, 11:39 ZULU**

The Sheffield party emerged from the Courthouse and were immediately mobbed by reporters. Sheffield stood on the steps, flanked by his wife and daughter, with Tony Bernstein, his attorney, at his shoulder. A.J. hung back. He was not trying to avoid publicity; it was too late for that. He had already nailed his colors to the mast by escorting Beth and Amy to the Arraignment. This was a moment for the Sheffield's to use the media to get their message across to the American public, some of whom might be on the jury that would eventually hear the case.

He listened as Sheffield responded to the questions thrown at him with long practiced ease. He proclaimed his innocence on all charges, looked forward to his complete exoneration, thanked his family for their support and the President and Secretary of Defense for allowing him a leave of absence to clear his name and ended by predicting his return to duty as Secretary of the Navy once the case was concluded.

"Mrs. Sheffield, how's this affecting you and your family?" a female reporter, clearly looking for a different angle asked, thrusting the mike under Beth's nose.

Beth smiled, "We were very shocked when my husband was indicted." she replied, "But I know he is innocent. This is the United States of America so I have every confidence that justice will eventually be done and he will be totally exonerated. As a family, we're coping well. We were very close before all this started and everything that has happened has only made those bonds stronger."

"Do you agree Ms. Sheffield?" asked the same journalist, moving in on Amy.

Amy took a deep breath, "My Dad doesn't take bribes!" she proclaimed loudly. "When this is all over and he's cleared, I can't wait to watch the prosecutor squirm as he tries to explain why he wasted hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars going after my father on evidence that wouldn't hang a dog!"

"Is that your view Mr. Bernstein? What's going to be the basis of your defense?"

Bernstein looked confident as he replied, "The money my client received from Sensa-Tech were legitimate campaign contributions and fully declared in accordance with the law. Sensa-Tech received no illegal or inappropriate consideration from my client in return for the donations and I am certain that, once we present our case, a jury will see it that way as well."

The SecNav intervened, "Thank you everybody. Now, if you don't mind, my family and I would like to get home!" He smiled for the camera's and began guiding his wife and daughter through the crowd, towards a waiting cab. A.J. followed and Tony Bernstein fell into step with him.

"Are you as confident as you sound?" A.J. muttered to him.

Bernstein carefully checked, but the media were out of range and Sheffield and his family were deep in their own conversation. He shook his head, "The case seems very circumstantial but Paul O'Connell is a cautious man. He hates losing so he doesn't indict unless he feels he has a slam dunk case. I've asked for discovery so I'll know what he's got once I see their evidence."

Chegwidden was tempted to tell him about the floppy discs Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie had retrieved from the SecNav's P.A. but then Bernstein looked at his watch, "I have to be going now, or I'll be late for another client." Nice to meet you Admiral." He shook A.J.'s hand, excused himself to Sheffield and disappeared as the group reached the waiting cab.

Sheffield opened the door and waited while his wife and daughter entered. Then he turned and gave Chegwidden a long look. Finally, he spoke. "Thanks for everything A.J. I'm very grateful for you being there for Beth and Amy." He paused again, "Beth tells me O'Connell recognized you. I hope that won't cause you any difficulties."

A.J. shrugged, "I'm off duty and in civilian clothes. There's nothing in the regulations preventing me from offering support to colleagues and their families in these circumstances."

Sheffield grinned and for a moment looked like his old self. "You don't need to break regulations to have problems. This is a political hot potato and, in politics, appearances are important. If I weren't on a leave of absence, I'd have a lot to say about my JAG appearing to support a suspected corrupt politician!"

A.J. grinned back at him, "Well, Mr. Secretary, I look forward to hearing it when you return to duty!"

Sheffield nodded, shook A.J.'s hand, then got into the cab. A.J. stood and watched as it slid out from the sidewalk and entered the traffic.

"Admiral Chegwidden, I was surprised to see the Judge Advocate General of the Navy here today, especially in the company you were keeping!"

A.J. turned to find himself confronted by a middle aged, untidily dressed man.

"Sidney Blackman, crime reporter, Washington Bugle." he introduced himself, "Is your presence here with Sheffield's family a sign of official Naval support for him? Are you and your office assisting his defense team? Will JAG be taking over his defense entirely?" Blackman's pencil was poised over his notebook as he asked questions in quick succession.

A.J. sighed, "I'm here in a personal capacity as a friend of the family, no more." He replied.

"Oh!" Blackman looked interested, "How long have you known the Sheffield's?"

"Long enough! Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be somewhere else."

Chegwidden walked away, ignoring Blackman's shouted questions until they faded into the distance.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Roberts' Residence**

**Near Falls Church,**

**Virginia.**

**Tuesday, 7th May, 20:56 ZULU**

"More pie, coffee?" Lieutenant Harriet Sims-Roberts asked hospitably, as her husband came down the stairs after checking up on little A.J and James.

Harm leaned back, "No thanks, Harriet. I'm full."

Mac offered up her cup. "I wouldn't mind another coffee if there's still some in the pot".

Harriet moved to refill as Bud dropped heavily into an armchair. He tossed a portable CD player onto the table. "I've just confiscated this from little A.J." he announced. "He was listening to it under the covers."

Harriet looked at it in surprise, "That's mine. He must have taken it from our bedroom."

"In my day, it was a radio." Harm noted, "How times move on!"

Mac took a sip of coffee and put down her cup. "Harriet, Bud, thanks for agreeing to help us out. There was a lot of information on those floppy discs. If you two hadn't volunteered, we'd still be wading through it."

The Roberts looked at each other, "It was a pleasure Colonel." Bud replied.

"I just hope there's something in them that helps the SecNav." Harriet added.

"Um," Harm began leafing through the piles of paper on the coffee table. "Mrs. Alvarez seems very organized. Sheffield had a busy schedule as a senator. Even when he's not in committee or meeting with constituents or lobbyists, there are whole areas blocked out for briefing sessions and administration. Are there any records of him meeting with Sensa-Tech officials during the period covered by the indictments?"

Harriet picked up some papers. "He had five meetings with their executives and registered lobbyists, Sir, Ma'am. These are Mrs. Alvarez' notes on those meetings. She and at least one aide sat in on all of them. She's gone into a lot of detail about the visitor's family, friends and likes and dislikes. Surely that's circumstantial evidence they were comparative strangers to Mr. Sheffield?"

Mac shook her head "If I was engaged in a criminal conspiracy, I'd pretend not to know my accomplices as well. Is there anything about what was actually said during those meetings?"

Harriet glanced through the papers to refresh her memory, "Not much." she replied. "Just some action points arising from them. Apparently the SecNav, Senator Sheffield as he was then, asked for briefing papers to be prepared on Sensa-Tech's new missile guidance system and a cost-benefit analysis on selling them that parcel of Federal land. That's all."

"O.K. We need to make an action point of our own to interview those aides. They should be able to confirm that nothing incriminating happened during those meetings and Sheffield didn't pressurize them to slant the briefing papers in Sensa-Tech's favor." Harm said.

"The prosecution will probably have already interviewed them." Mac pointed out, "Marcie told me they wanted her to say Sheffield had other meetings with Sensa-Tech that weren't in the diary so I went and checked out his old office at the Senate building. The good news is the only way in or out is through a general office where Marcie and a couple of volunteers sat. She swears there were no other meetings. I suppose she and the others couldn't have been sitting there every moment of the day, but even so, his opportunities to meet with anyone without someone noticing must have been limited."

Bud coughed, "Excuse me Ma'Am, Sir." he said. "But we're assuming Mrs. Alvarez is telling the truth about that and that she hasn't already sanitized the floppies. She could be an accomplice or just trying to protect the SecNav."

Harm nodded, "That's what I might think if I was prosecuting this case Bud, but we are operating on the basis that the SecNav is innocent. As nothing she's told us contradicts that, we should proceed as if she's telling the truth unless we get new evidence to the contrary. However, we don't know when these alleged secret meetings took place. For all we know, the U.S. Attorney's might be arguing they happened after she left for the day or between Sheffield leaving the office and reaching home. We need to find out what the prosecution thinks its' got and we need to know the specifics, days, dates, times, places if we're to use any of this information to rebut their case."

"It's a pity Sam Bruckner didn't give in to your charms flyboy." observed Mac, dryly.

Harm looked embarrassed. "A temporary setback." he said, "There are other ways of getting the information."

"But can we get it and still maintain a low profile, Sir?" asked Harriet.

Mac answered the question, "Sure. Sheffield has a right to help in the preparation of his own defense so all he has to do is ask Tony Bernstein to pass copies of all discovery material on to him. Bud, Harriet, will you talk to his senatorial aides? Harm and I will go see the SecNav. "

"And I'll ask Sturgis if he'll pitch in and speak to the volunteers who shared Mrs. Alvarez' outer office." Harm added.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Pentagon**

**Washington D.C.**

**Wednesday, 8th May, 11:47 ZULU**

"What the hell were you thinking A.J.?" Vice Admiral Henderson brandished a copy of the Washington Bugle in Chegwidden's face.

He began reading aloud, "Rear Admiral A.J. Chegwidden, the Navy's Judge Advocate General, accompanied the somber looking wife and daughter of defendant Edward Sheffield to the Arraignment. Later when challenged by a reporter from this newspaper he proclaimed a long standing friendship with the Sheffield family. This paper finds it inappropriate for the Navy's most senior lawyer and the individual responsible for prosecuting crimes committed by naval personnel, to lend the support of himself and his office to a man alleged to have compromised this country's defense for hard cash.

We also wonder if this "long-standing friendship" with Mr. Sheffield had anything to do with his appointment as Secretary of the Navy. Admiral Chegwidden was deeply involved in the so called 'dirty nuke' incident which led to the resignation of former Secretary of the Navy Nelson after a Senate enquiry chaired by none other than this same Edward Sheffield, cast doubt on Secretary Nelson's judgment."

"The Bugle's a scandal sheet, little better than the National Enquirer." A.J. said dismissively.

"You saying they made all this up?" Henderson asked.

"Well no. I did say I was a friend of the family and the testimony I gave to the Senate Intelligence Committee is a matter of public record. It's the spin they give it."

Henderson looked at his subordinate and friend. "A.J. you've been around long enough to know this town runs on scandal, but having your name splashed all over the op-ed pages of the Bugle with the implication that you somehow conspired with Sheffield to get rid of Nelson so that he could take over as SecNav isn't the only problem. The Acting SecNav has been approached by the U.S. Attorney's office. Their chief prosecutor in this case is concerned that your presence at the arraignment was some sort of pressure play…Look, I respect Sheffield as well. He's done more for the Navy in eighteen months than Nelson did in five years but we've got to be careful that nothing we do or say can be twisted or misinterpreted in a way that causes damage to the Service. That's why we have to keep our distance from this entire mess."

"I was out of uniform and on my own time when I went to court. I made no comments about the case. There's nothing in Regulations preventing me from exercising my rights as a citizen to attend a court hearing." A.J. pointed out.

"True enough." Henderson acknowledged. "But you need to think about the effect on your office's relationship with the U.S. Attorney's. You need to work with them. And you can't separate yourself from your job in the public's mind. To them; it might seem like the Navy was officially supporting Sheffield. I don't want to make this an order A.J. but take some advice from an old friend, back off from Sheffield."

Chegwidden looked directly at his superior, his face unreadable. "Thank you for your advice, Sir. Is there anything else?"

After receiving a shake of the head, A.J. got up and left the office. Henderson watched as the door closed. He had known from the start it was a waste of time but he felt he owed it to his friend to at least try.

T.B.C.


	5. Chapter 5

Lynnp and McRose, thanks for your kind comments.

Here is the next chapter I hope you and any other readers like this one as much. Sorry it's shorter than the previous one. It just seemed a good place to end this one on.

**Chapter 5**

**Admiral A.J. Chegwidden's Residence**

**Near Falls Church, Virginia,**

**Saturday, 11th May, 04:10 ZULU**

_CRASH! _

The sound of a garbage can being knocked over half woke A.J. It was a familiar noise to him, like most people living in a rural area; he was accustomed to a variety of animals using their contents to supplement their diet. He reached out for Meredith, then remembered she was on a lecture tour in the mid-west.

"Damn raccoons," he cursed sleepily, naming the most likely cause of this latest assault on his sleep and then, "damn lecture tour" before turning over and closing his eyes again. He had almost drifted back off when he heard something that couldn't be attributed to the nocturnal activities of Virginia's wild life - the sound of a metal container being dragged along and then set firmly back up on its base.

A.J. was awake instantly; he reached over to the bedside table and took his gun from the draw. Quickly putting on his dressing gown and slippers he crept downstairs, weapon at the ready. Entering the kitchen, he saw Dammit asleep in her basket. She opened one eye and looked at him, then closed it and settled back down. _Some guard dog you are_ he thought, _you are getting fat and lazy my girl!_

He carefully unlocked the back door and slid out into the night, hugging the shadows of the wall for cover. Moving with all the stealth of his SEAL training he came to the covered area where the garbage cans were kept and stood watching the silhouette of a man rummaging inside one of them. Even hunched over, the outline figure was familiar to him.

"I see you've found your natural level, Mr. Blackman." he observed conversationally.

The Crime Reporter of the Washington Bugle slowly uncoiled and turned towards him. "Just doing my duty as a reporter in keeping the public informed, Admiral." Sidney Blackman replied. "The people want assurances that the Navy's chief legal officer isn't in some sort of corrupt relationship with an indicted felon." He nodded arrogantly towards the gun, "Pointing one of those at me isn't going to help your case one little bit." he said.

A.J. kept the gun trained on him. "I woke to find an intruder on my property. I didn't know what their motives were. I still only have your word for what you're doing here. I have the right to defend myself if I'm attacked."

Blackman nodded towards the garbage bins. "When you threw all this out you lost any expectation of privacy regarding anything I might find." The full moon showed him leering as he spoke. "You won't believe what juicy tidbits I've found in people's discarded household trash. There's nothing you can do to stop me going through it, I checked with the paper's lawyers before coming here."

A.J.'s face showed his distaste, "I bet you did, and I bet they've had a lot of experience in handling cases like that for your paper. But I'm a lawyer too and I'd be surprised if they didn't also warn you that entering my property without an invitation was trespass. If I sued, I'd win. Now, get off my land!"

Blackman gave him an arrogant look. "Alright," he said. "But I will draw my own conclusions from your unwillingness to co-operate with the press."

"Draw what you like." A.J. responded, "You've got a count of ten to get your six out of here. If you're not gone by then, I'm calling the Sheriff, who's a friend of mine and I guarantee you'll spend the weekend cooling your heels in a cell until Arraignment Court on Monday morning. I'm starting the count now, one …two …three…

Blackman turned to go but, before leaving, he gave A.J. a superior smile, "I'm gone; but buy the Bugle on Monday; you'll be able to read all about this little encounter there, I guarantee that!"

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**Sharon Cheung's Apartment,**

**Washington, DC**

**Saturday, 11th May, 11:01 ZULU**

Commander Sturgis Turner checked the number on the door against his list and knocked. The door was opened by a Chinese American woman aged about 22 or 23.

"Commander Turner?" she asked. Then, after he had confirmed his identity, "Come in."

The apartment was small. With house prices in Washington being what they were, that was to be expected unless you were very rich or very lucky.

"Please sit down." The woman indicated an easy chair.

"Thank you." Sturgis said, then began to explain what he was doing there. Sharon Cheung was the fourth and last of the volunteers he had agreed to interview and he now had his speech down pat. None of the others had been able to offer any useful information and he didn't expect this interview to be any different, but he was nothing if not thorough.

"Thank you for seeing me. As I explained over the phone, I'm a Navy officer. I and a few friends are informally looking into the allegations against Secretary Sheffield. I must stress that you don't have to speak to me or answer any of my questions but, you may be able to help the SecNav. if you do."

Sharon nodded seriously, "I'll be happy to answer any questions you have Commander. I don't for a moment believe the things they're saying about him!"

"OK. How did you come to volunteer for Mr. Sheffield, Ms Cheung?"

"I'm studying for a post-graduate degree in political science at George Washington University and I wanted to get some hands on experience of the political process. There were a number of senators and congressmen advertising for volunteers, I looked at their voting records and chose Mr. Sheffield because I supported most of the positions he took."

"And you worked for him during the period covered by the indictments?" Sturgis prompted.

"That's right." she confirmed, "One day a week during semesters and full time during vacations, except when I went home to visit my folks in Baltimore."

"Do you remember if you were in the office when he met with Sensa-Tech officials or lobbyists?"

Ms Cheung shook her head, "Not really, but I guess I must have. How else could I have recognized the guy I saw him speaking to at the Kennedy Center as a Sensa-Tech executive?"

Sturgis sat back, shocked, "When was this?"

"It was about eighteen months, maybe two years' ago." she replied. "I was at a concert by the National Symphony Orchestra with my then boyfriend. It was a fundraiser for a Veterans charity. The program was light classical. You know the kind of thing, the 'Blue Danube' before the interval and John Philip Sousa marches after. I don't recall the exact date but it shouldn't be too hard to find out. I know it was a one night only deal. During the interval, we went to the bar for a drink; that's where I saw Mr. Sheffield and the guy from Sensa-Tech. I remember pointing them out to Tom and bragging about how close I was to the big Washington players." Sharon smiled in embarrassment at the memory.

"Did you hear what they were discussing?" Sturgis wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but the question had to be asked.

She shook her head. "No. It was crowded and very noisy in there."

"You're sure you not mistaken about the identity of the other man?"

"Absolutely. He was one of the people indicted with Mr. Sheffield. I recognized him from the pictures in the Bugle." She got up and walked over to a closet, opened the door and began to go through a stack of old newspapers. "I keep them for re-cycling." she explained. "Ah!" She held up a copy of the Bugle from the day the indictments had been handed down and handed it to Sturgis, pointing to one of the mug shot like pictures on the front page. "It was him." she said, "I'm certain of it."

Sturgis looked down at the photograph she'd identified, _George Cleever, former Vice President, Sensa-Tech, _he read. He swallowed convulsively as his stomach churned but kept his voice steady, "Can I have the name and address of your ex-boyfriend?" he asked. "He may have seen or heard something you didn't."

Sharon looked confused, "Sure, Thomas Pirelli, 31, West Caroline Avenue, Beltsville. But why do you want to know? I thought this was about what happened in Mr. Sheffield's office. Tom can't tell you anything about that."

Sturgis was tempted to make an excuse and leave. After all, there were perfectly innocent explanations for what Sharon had seen, but he knew he couldn't. It was his duty to bring potentially incriminating evidence against two men indicted on felony charges to the proper authorities,

"Ms. Cheung, you have information on a previously unknown meeting between Mr. Sheffield and a Sensa-Tech official. You must report this to the U.S. Attorneys. It's evidence in a criminal investigation."

Sharon had put two and two together and she stared at him in shock and disgust. "You tricked me. I thought you were on Mr. Sheffield's side but you just came here to find evidence that could be used against him. Get out - now!"

Sturgis nodded, "I'm sorry. Believe me I didn't want to hear this, but now I have; as an officer of the court I must advise you to tell the authorities." He paused and his next words came out slowly. "Ma'm, I also have to advise you that if you don't tell them voluntarily, I will have to and that could have serious consequences for you, including the possibility of criminal prosecution for withholding evidence."

He left the apartment, feeling like a Judas.

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**Sheffield Residence,**

**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**Sunday, 12th May, 15:22 ZULU**

"Commander, Colonel, come in, sit down." They'd rung ahead and Sheffield was ready for them. He ushered Harm and Mac into his study and indicated the coffee pot and cups, set out on an occasional table.

"How do you take it?" he asked.

"Nothing for me." Mac replied.

"Or me." Harm said.

Sheffield looked up to see they had both remained standing and were staring at him, their expressions cold and accusing. He felt a shiver of apprehension run through his body but kept his expression calm. He hadn't been a politician for thirty years without learning to disguise his emotions.

"What is it?" he asked.

Harm and Mac continued to look at him coldly and appraisingly.

"Why didn't you tell Admiral Chegwidden about meeting with George Cleever, Sensa-Tech's VP and, incidentally, one of your co-defendants?" Colonel Mackenzie asked him.

"And what did he give you? How many other meetings were there? How many other times did you accept something from him?" Commander Rabb added.

T.B.C


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you everyone for your reviews. I always enjoy reading feedback, especially when it's complementary!

**McRose** – Based on the information available in the previous chapter you were right to suggest Mac and Harm are jumping to conclusions but hopefully I've explained where they were coming from here. Please let me know what you think.

**michelle UK** – Sorry, but that's why it's called a cliffhanger! I hope you feel this chapter was worth the wait.

Just a short note about the reference in this chapter to a certain character from another show from the same stables. This is not going to turn into a crossover story but, having set out my stall in the introduction to chapter 1, I couldn't resist the temptation for a little self indulgence. I think the literary term is "homage".

I hope you enjoy …

**Chapter 6**

**Sheffield Residence,**

**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**Sunday, 12th May, 15:31 ZULU**

"_Why didn't you tell Admiral Chegwidden about meeting with George Cleever, Sensa-Tech's VP and, incidentally, one of your co-defendants?" Mac asked Sheffield._

"_And what did he give you? How many other meetings were there? How many other times did you accept something from him?" Harm added._

Sheffield's reply came slowly. When he finally spoke there was a frustrated edge to his voice. "The only meetings I had with Cleever were the ones you already know about, the ones held in my office. There were witnesses to those who will confirm nothing illegal took place."

"You're lying." Mac told him angrily. "We've found a witness who saw the two of you together during a charity fundraiser at the Kennedy Center almost two years ago. Do you want to know the exact date? It wasn't hard to find. Nor was the list of attendees, you're both on it!"

She and Harm studied the reaction of the man who appeared to have so comprehensively betrayed their trust. Although he was trying to control his emotions, various subtle cues suggested he was surprised and shocked at the allegation. Had it been anyone else, they would have been convinced that his reaction was genuine. This man, however, was a professional politician, well practiced in dissembling and shading the truth. His courage in going to The Hague and risking a long term of imprisonment, the way he'd conducted himself during the trial and the passion he had displayed for his country had won him some degree of respect from them but, as far as the current allegations were concerned, the jury was still out.

Sheffield appeared to be thinking hard, until finally, "I did run into George Cleever at a Veterans fundraiser. We passed the time of day for about five minutes. It was a casual meeting, nothing more. Washington's a small town. I'm always running into people I know, I think he loaned me a copy of his program. I'd left mine on my seat and I wanted to see what was coming up after the interval. That was all that happened. I never met him or any other Sensa-Tech executive again outside of my office, even casually."

"That's a good story." Harm observed cynically, "You might even get a jury to buy it. Unfortunately, the witness is prepared to swear he saw you with Cleever several times subsequently and that Cleever handed you an object about the size of a small envelope each time."

Sheffield strode forward and stared up into Harm's eyes. Although he was almost a head shorter, the force of his personality hit Harm like an electrical charge. "That is not true!" Sheffield responded; his anger and frustration showing clearly for the first time. "Who is this so-called witness?"

"The former boyfriend of one of your volunteers." Mac replied. "Why should he lie? What reason would he have?"

Sheffield turned to her gesturing angrily, "How do I know? Maybe he's an anti-war activist? Maybe he wants his two minutes of fame? Maybe he's genuinely mistaken? All I know is I only saw George Cleever outside my office on that one occasion!" He paused as a thought struck him, "I suppose, you told this guy to take his story to the U.S. Attorney?"

"We had to." Harm pointed out, "It was our duty as officers' of the court."

"Wonderful! I thought you were going to help me. Now, thanks to you, the prosecution's case just got stronger!"

A knock on the study door interrupted the conversation and all three turned to see Beth Sheffield enter the room. She looked worried, "Is everything alright, Ed?" she asked. "I heard raised voices."

Her presence seemed to calm Sheffield somewhat; he dropped heavily onto the sofa as he waved his hand towards the two officers.

"Everything's perfect sweetheart, if you ignore the fact these two have hammered the final nail into my coffin!"

"You're a lawyer, Mr. Secretary." Mac said, "This testimony is damaging certainly but it's still only circumstantial."

Beth sat down beside her husband and held his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"You're right Colonel, I haven't practiced for a long time, but I trained as a lawyer. So I know that people have been sent to Death Row on circumstantial evidence no stronger than this witness you've managed to dig up has provided. If this is your idea of helping, please stop, I don't think I can afford it!"

"We offered to dig into the case because we thought you were innocent." Harm replied sharply. "If you want us to stop, fine, but we will draw our own conclusions if you do."

"Colonel, Commander, I don't know what you think you've discovered but I know my husband is innocent. He would never sell out for money." Beth spoke with simple dignity. "There must be an explanation. Please find it, before …" Her voice trailed off and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, her voice was steady, "I faced the possibility of losing him once before, but I understood the importance of the statement he was making and supported his decision to go to the I.C.C. But this is different, I can't bear to think of him incarcerated and disgraced for a crime he didn't commit!"

"Is that your decision too, Mr. Secretary?" Mac asked. "Do you want us to carry on?"

Sheffield took his wife into a comforting embrace. He glanced up at her and Harm and nodded his agreement before returning his attention to his wife. "Yes." he confirmed.

Harm and Mac looked at each other and reached an unspoken agreement. They sat down.

"I think I'll take up that offer of coffee now, if you don't mind." Mac said simply. "Then we can discuss this new evidence in more detail. If you weren't meeting with Cleever, it would be really helpful if you could remember what you were doing on at least some of the dates and times in question. It would be even better if you've kept some record of it."

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**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Monday, 13th May, 08:17 ZULU**

A.J. strode impatiently along the corridor towards the JAG bullpen and his office. He had not had a good journey into work, the tailback on the Beltway had been longer than usual and traffic had crawled along, causing him to wonder, not for the first time, what idiot had misnamed it the "rush hour". The news program he'd listened to on the car radio had also not improved his temper. The indictments of Sheffield and the others still dominated the headlines with reports of "important new witnesses" who had come forward with evidence against the SecNav. Although no details were given, A.J. had been briefed by Harm during a telephone conversation the previous night and could guess what was being referred to. The U.S. Attorney's had obviously lost no time in leaking the news to the media. The reporters and commentators were already talking as if the outcome of the trial was a foregone conclusion and the only question left was how long Sheffield would be sent to prison for. Despite the presumption of guilt displayed by the media, however, the trial wouldn't actually start for another three months. He wondered what it would take before the story faded from the headlines, at least temporarily. _The marriage and/or pregnancy of the latest hot celebrity or the President's dog having puppies probably_, he concluded sourly.

He was also a little apprehensive because, just as he was driving into his parking space, the newscaster had referred to a 'Bugle' story exposing the involvement of a senior naval officer in the "web of corruption engulfing Washington". Remembering his conversation with Blackman in the early hours of Saturday, he had a very good idea what this story was about too. He had been tempted to sit there and listen for further details but he was already running late and Coates would have a copy of the paper so he could read what was being said about him without having it sifted through a third party. His entry into the bullpen was greeted by the rustle of newspapers being rapidly discarded. A few of the newer members of staff, unused to the comparative informality of JAG, came to attention; he waved for them to carry on without breaking his stride. More experienced JAG officers and staff took one look at his face and found an excuse to keep as far away from him as possible.

As he passed through the bullpen he noted the surreptitious glances of many of his subordinates. Looking down at the desks, he saw that almost every one held a copy of the 'Bugle'. Each one had been closed and laid with its front page downwards. _That bad, huh! _he thought ironically. Ignoring the looks and the newspapers he continued to his office.

"Sir." P.O. Jennifer Coates jerked to attention as he reached her desk. "You've had calls from Vice Admiral Henderson, the Acting SecNav's private office, the Chief of Naval Operations, SecNav Sheffield, Rear Admiral Calavicci and your personal attorney in that order. They all want you phone them as soon as you get in."

A.J. sighed, he'd expected this. The only surprise was Al's call. He'd been locked away in the arid wastes of New Mexico for what seemed like forever, the scuttlebutt must really be flying round if he'd heard so quickly. On the other hand, the Flag Officer rumor mill was one of the most active in the Navy.

"Alright Coates, give me today's copy of the 'Washington Bugle', then tell Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb I want to see them in ten minutes. If you get any further calls, I am still not in. Understand?"

Coates went white when she heard his request for the 'Bugle' but she nodded her understanding, "Aye, Sir."

She reached down and slid the 'Bugle' out from under her blotter, where she had hidden it and her expression was like that of a condemned person being asked to take their final walk as she handed it to him. A.J. nodded his thanks and walked into his office, closing the door behind him. He sat in his chair and looked at the headline which screamed out in bold black type,

**WHAT IS CHEGWIDDEN HIDING?**

Underneath was an archive picture of himself and Sheffield standing together, deep in friendly conversation. A.J. recognized it as having been taken at a Pentagon reception. They had been talking about Sheffield's success in getting an increase in the JAG budget for the first time in three years. He read the story. There was a brief re-hashing of the charges against the SecNav followed by a highly colored and very biased account of his encounter with Blackman. According to the 'Bugle', Blackman had gone to his house to ask him for an interview and been met with threats and physical violence. Although he wasn't actually accused of any wrongdoing in connection with the corruption case, the implications of the story were obvious, as was the meaning of the last paragraph.

"_This paper has already raised concerns about the nature and extent of A.J. Chegwidden's relationship with Edward Sheffield. The Admiral's unwillingness to answer perfectly legitimate questions put to him by this reporter and his violent reaction to them seems to confirm there is more to their relationship than simple friendship. The Bugle is convinced the corruption in our political and military establishment goes wider and deeper than has yet been discovered. We will continue our investigation into the links between these two men and their connections with the other players in this continuing scandal."_

_If he's looking for evidence of a conspiracy between me and Sheffield, he's going to be out of luck. _A.J. thought with dark humor as there was a knock on the door. "Come in." he called.

Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb walked in. A.J. glanced at his watch and saw that ten minutes had passed.

"Morning Sir"

"You wanted to see us, Admiral?"

Harm glanced down at the paper. "Did you really literally kick Blackman out of your house, Sir?" he asked.

A.J. glared at him. "Are you sure Sheffield's telling the truth about these meetings with Cleever not taking place?" he asked.

Harm shrugged, "As certain as we can be without actually having been there, Sir. As I told you last night, we went through the dates and times with the Secretary and Mrs. Sheffield. Unfortunately, they couldn't remember where they were or what they were doing during those periods. We checked his office diary before we went to see him but there's nothing helpful there either. Without something in writing, it's hardly surprising they can't recall anything useful; the most recent date Pirelli gave was over a year ago. Most people can't remember what they were doing on a particular date and time a month ago, much less twelve.

"That's one of the reasons we believe Sheffield, Sir." Mac added. "You can understand Pirelli remembering the Kennedy Center but how can he be so specific about the dates and times of these other meetings after such a long time? There was no specific event he could relate them to. On the face of it, it's strong evidence of Sheffield's guilt but, when you think about it, it's actually quite suspicious."

"Maybe he's just got a good memory." A.J. grunted.

"That is a possibility," agreed Mac, "but we've got Bud doing a background check on him anyway."

A.J. leaned back and considered his officers, "Not on JAG time I hope." He indicated the newspaper on his desk, "I don't want the 'Bugle' reporting that I'm misusing the DOD budget as well."

"We're being discreet, Sir." Harm assured him.

"What are your other reasons for believing Sheffield?" He noted that both officers looked embarrassed at the question. "Well?" he pressed.

"Sheffield's a bright guy." Harm replied. "He thinks fast on his feet. If these meetings had actually taken place, he should have been able to come up with something better than a total denial when he was told there was a witness to them."

"I hope neither of you is ever in a position where you have to build a defense around either of those arguments." A.J. replied dryly. "What you mean is you're still going on gut instinct." He sighed, "Alright, carry on and keep me informed. Dismissed."

As Mac and Harm left the room the phone rang and he picked it up, "Coates, I told you to say I wasn't in!" he rapped out.

"_I'm sorry Sir but its Dr. Cavanaugh. I thought you'd make an exception for her."_

A.J. sighed, "Put her through. When I've finished, put in calls to the people on the list in strict order of rank and seniority but leave Admiral Calavicci to last."

_He's the only one who's likely to be ringing purely as a friend and I will probably need one of those by the time I've finished with the others _he thought.

"_Aye, Sir."_ There was a pause at the other end of the line, _"Err… where does the SecNav, Mr. Sheffield that is, fit in under these circumstances?"_ Coates asked.

T.B.C.


	7. Chapter 7

Here is the next chapter to my story. Thank you for all the nice things you've said about previous ones. I hope you'll continue to say them after reading...

**Chapter 7**

**Pentagon**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Monday, 13th May, 10:48 ZULU**

"The Judge Advocate General, Sir." The Acting SecNav's P.A. announced A.J. and then withdrew.

A.J. strode across the large office and came to a halt before the desk where Acting SecNav Wilson sat waiting for him. Also present was the Chief of Information, Rear Admiral Podornski, the Navy's head of PR. She was seated in an easy chair, opposite the Acting SecNav but placed at an angle so she could watch as A.J. made the long march across the office.

Neither rose to greet him or even verbally acknowledged his presence until he had come to a halt.

Wilson stared at him in open dislike for a long moment. "Admiral Chegwidden." he finally said. He didn't ask A.J. to sit down.

"Sir." A.J. responded, his face and voice neutral, giving nothing away. In fact, he cordially despised the man who, as far as he's been able to find out, was a political hack who had never had an original thought or an independent opinion in his entire life. The scuttlebutt was that he'd been the SECDEF's preferred choice for the top job until Sheffield had made it politically expedient for the Administration to appoint him instead, leaving Wilson to take the booby prize of Under-Secretary. A.J. knew that there was tension between the two men.

"What the hell are you playing at?" Wilson hissed, "After the Arraignment we were expecting the story to die down, giving us some breathing space until the trial itself. Now you come along, proclaim Sheffield's innocence to the world, beat up on this journalist and cause him to make these ridiculous accusations of corruption within the Navy itself. Don't you think finding out the Secretary of the Navy's a crook has damaged us enough?"

"With respect, Sir, I have never publicly said I believe Secretary Sheffield to be innocent. I merely offered support to his family and pointed out that, in this country, courts decide guilt or innocence, not the media. Also, in view of your comment, I would be failing in my duty as JAG if I didn't remind you that he is entitled to the presumption of innocence. I also wish to state, for the record, that I did not lay a hand on Blackman. His story about me beating up on him is a total fabrication."

"Of course it won't be official until after the trial but we all know Sheffield's guilty!" Wilson replied impatiently, "You think the Justice Department treats senior government officials the same way as they would some street thug?"

A.J. squared his shoulders and took the battle back to the Acting SecNav, "If that is the view of the Administration, why was he given a leave of absence when the indictment was handed down rather than fired?"

"That's above your pay grade." Wilson rapped out. "Right now, we've got to decide how we clean up this mess you've created. Amy?" He turned to Rear Admiral Podornski.

A.J. didn't know Rear Admiral Podornski particularly well. They'd met at various functions and worked together when JAG had needed PR advice but their relationship had been purely professional. She appeared competent but he found her cheerleader mannerisms, even in private, mildly irritating.

She displayed them now, her face fixed in a cheerful smile and her tone resolutely upbeat, despite the seriousness of the topic, "Well, Mr. Secretary, I think we can all agree that during this difficult time we should all act in the best interests of the Navy. That means damping down the media feeding frenzy aimed our way. In order to do that Admiral Chegwidden needs to put some clear ocean between himself and Mr. Sheffield. I suggest we arrange a press conference so he can state publicly that his relationship with Mr. Sheffield was purely professional and only began after he was appointed SecNav. The Admiral can also use the opportunity to release his personal financial records showing he has nothing to hide and explain away his attendance at the Arraignment in company of the Sheffield family as a gentlemanly act of compassion towards innocent people caught up in the scandal which he now realizes was naïve and ill-judged. My office can draw up some responses to the most likely supplementary questions. It would also be really good if the admiral apologized publicly to Mr. Blackman for the misunderstanding that took place at their previous meeting and offered him an exclusive interview."

A.J. noted the use of the honorific in regard to Wilson and Sheffield's relegation to a plain Mister. Clearly this was another senior officer who had already written him off and was beginning to curry favor with his presumed successor. He also began to understand the political sub-text of this meeting. Wilson didn't go to the head without getting the OK from the SECDEF. The fact he was so clearly and openly declaring Sheffield's guilt in this private meeting meant this was the outcome his boss, and possibly the White House, expected and desired. However, they also wanted to cover their backs just in case he was found Not Guilty, hence the leave of absence rather than the sack. For one paranoid moment he wondered if the Administration had framed Sheffield, then almost immediately dismissed the idea. There would need to be too many people involved for a conspiracy like that to remain secret for long. The likelihood was that they were simply using the situation to ease out a man they'd never wanted in the first place.

Aloud, he said, "Over my dead body!" Then he added, "Sir."

Wilson's face twisted in anger. "I'm ordering you to do this, Chegwidden!"

"With respect, Mr. Acting Secretary you can order me to attend the press conference but you can't order me to do or say things contrary to my conscience. That means I will state my relationship with the SecNav only began after his appointment but I will not apologize to Blackman and I will not release my personal financial information to be picked over by the media."

"If you don't A.J., they'll think you have something to hide." Rear Admiral Podornski pointed out.

A.J. shrugged, "Let them. If the Navy thinks that, investigate me through the usual channels. I'll co-operate. You should also ask yourself what sort of questions reporters will ask at a press conference. So far I've never publicly offered my personal opinion on Secretary Sheffield's guilt or innocence, but, when someone asks me that question directly, and they will, believe me, how do you think I'll respond?"

Wilson sat back as if he'd been struck. "I'll have your bars for this!" he grated out.

A.J. smiled at him. "I don't think so, Sir. My actions are fully compliant with the Code of Honor and the Uniform Code of Conduct."

Wilson glanced at Podornski, who nodded confirmation.

"You'll live to regret this, Chegwidden. You've just made a powerful enemy. One that will shortly be even more powerful" Wilson warned.

"Oh, I don't think so Sir." Then, without giving him any time to work out which part of the statement he was disagreeing with, A.J. asked, "Permission to leave?"

Receiving a dismissive gesture, he turned and marched out of the room, hoping that his instincts were correct and he hadn't just burned his boats. _Even if I have, that's not exactly unheard of among SEAL's, _he consoled himself.

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**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Monday, 13th May, 18:31 ZULU**

Bud Roberts knocked on the door to Mac's office then opened it and went in.

Mac was sitting at her desk studying a file as Harm leaned over her shoulder

"M'am, Sir." he greeted them and nodded towards the file, "Is that something to do with the SecNav?"

Mac smiled at him then grimaced, "Hi Bud. Unfortunately no; it's the Grimwold appeal."

"What have you found out about Pirelli?" Harm asked.

Bud dived into his pocket and brought out a notebook. He flicked over its pages until he reached the relevant section and began reading out his notes.

"Thomas Pirelli, aged twenty five years, born in a little town called Jayes Crossing, near Altoona in Pennsylvania. Like Ms. Cheung, he's a post graduate student at George Washington University, only his field is Information Systems. His father is a warehouse supervisor and his mother works part time as a childcare assistant. There's no listing on them in any of the databases I've checked. Pirelli himself is well liked by his fellow students and highly regarded by his professors. They say he's got great potential. His landlady says he pays his bills on time, is polite and doesn't have noisy parties. He appears to have no political affiliations and we haven't been able to turn up any criminal record, not even an outstanding parking ticket. According to what Harriet and I have been able to find out in the time available, the worse thing you can say about him is he's a Philly Eagles fan!"

"Damn! I was hoping there'd be something!" Harm exclaimed frustratedly.

Bud grinned at him, "I didn't say there wasn't, Sir. Harriet and I started wondering how he was paying for his education and living expenses. According to his family's financials, they'd saved enough for him to attend college but hadn't even considered he'd go on to post-grad. Guess what we found?"

Mac waved him towards a chair and leaned forward in interest. "Sit down Bud; this is all unofficial so you don't have to wait for permission to sit. Well, don't keep us on tenterhooks, what did you uncover?"

"Thanks M'am." Bud responded to the invitation and then went on, "Pirelli has a scholarship from a charitable foundation. It covers his tuition and living expenses. We checked out the Foundation and guess what?"

"It was set up by Sensa-Tech." Harm murmured.

Bud's face fell. "Yes Sir. How did you know?"

Mac smiled at him, "Don't ever play poker Bud. You were obviously about to deliver a bombshell. What else could it have been?"

"Yes, M'am, no, M'am, but that's not all. During vacations he works for them in their R & D division!"

"Hum." Harm considered the information. "That's suspicious but not exactly incriminating. It could be a coincidence. In fact, the prosecution could argue that his connection with Sensa-Tech was the reason why his recollection of the meetings between the SecNav and Cleever is so clear even after all this time."

"But Sir, his specialism is Information Systems. He could have worked on the missile guidance system that the SecNav is alleged to have been bribed to support!"

"Could have is the operative word here Bud." Mac pointed out, "And, even if he did, so what? Lots of students work for the corporations sponsoring them during their vacations. He's hardly likely to have been involved in high level policy making."

She looked at her partner and their eyes met, "However, it does warrant further investigation."

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**Fletcher and Bernstein Law Offices**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Monday, 13th May, 19:02 ZULU**

"Admiral, so pleased you could come." Tony Bernstein rose from his leather easy chair and shook A.J.'s hand firmly. "Sit down, coffee, something stronger?"

A.J. nodded towards Sheffield, who was seated in one of the other easy chairs around the coffee table, sipping a whisky and soda.

"Mr. Secretary," he acknowledged. Then "I'll have what the Secretary is having, thanks." he added in answer to Bernstein's question.

"Coming up!"

Bernstein busied himself preparing the drink, then made one for himself and sat down. "OK. We're all busy men here so I won't beat about the bush. Just what the hell do you and your people think you're doing? You're all lawyers; surely you realize the damage you're doing to my client's case?"

A.J. glanced towards Sheffield, who shrugged in a "_well,_ _what did you expect?" _kind of way but said nothing. He closed his eyes, today seemed to be his day for being chewed out by all and sundry he came into contact with. Mentally he began to draw together his response.

T.B.C.


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Now without further ado …

**Chapter 8**

**Fletcher and Bernstein Law Offices**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Monday, 13th May, 19:03 ZULU**

_Bernstein busied himself preparing the drink; then made one for himself and sat down. "OK. We're all busy men here so I won't beat about the bush. Just what the hell do you and your people think you're doing? You're all lawyers; surely you realize the damage you're doing to my client's case?"_

"We're engaged in a search for the truth." A.J. replied. "What's wrong with that if the Secretary is innocent?"

"I don't need to prove Ed's innocence; all I have to do is raise reasonable doubt." Bernstein snapped. "And your amateur Dick Tracy's are not helping. All their crashing about has managed to achieve so far is provide the Prosecution with two new witnesses. OK, their testimony isn't exactly a smoking gun but it all adds up. Juries believe there's no smoke without fire. You've increased the chances of Ed. being crushed under the weight of circumstantial evidence."

Sheffield intervened, "I would really prefer not to go to prison." he said dryly. "And Beth feels the same, but there are other considerations. A verdict of Not Guilty doesn't equal innocent in the public mind. There will always be people who think I got away with it and I and my family will never be able to escape the scandal. At the very least, my position as Secretary of the Navy will be seriously undermined, at the worse; the President could decide to remove me. Not to mention Beth and Amy having to go through the rest of their lives running the gauntlet of sideways glances and whispers everywhere they went. Amy is in her first year at Med. School. She shouldn't have to face that."

"And what if the Keystone Kops don't find anything else; or, even worse, they uncover more circumstantial evidence against you?" Bernstein demanded. "Are you prepared to take that risk?"

"My people are looking into Pirelli's background." A.J. put in. "They've already got a lead although I don't know the details yet. I'll let you know if it pans out."

Bernstein sat back and regarded his client, "It's your freedom at stake Ed." He noted, "If you want to risk spending the next seven years or more wearing an orange jumpsuit and fighting off Butch the Biker during your two showers a week, that's your choice."

Sheffield's face took on a haunted expression at this graphic description of his possible fate but quickly returned to normal. "Beth and I have discussed it and yes, we're prepared to take the risk." He replied. "You're acting as if you believed I was actually guilty, Tony. I'm not. Either this Pirelli guy is genuinely mistaken or he's part of the frame up. Letting Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie continue their investigation could provide the answer."

A.J. sat back relieved. He'd realized during the I.C.C. affair that, once Sheffield made up his mind, he committed himself totally to the course of action he'd settled on. He'd been less pleased to discover his boss was also a high stakes gambler but this was one occasion when he was grateful for it.

"OK." Bernstein turned to A.J., "Admiral, I don't want anymore nasty surprises. From now on, we work as a team. Whatever your people turn up, you let me know straight away, O.K.?"

A.J. nodded. "Agreed." He said and then added. "If we're going to be working together, I'd like copies of everything the Prosecution turns over to you on Discovery. Something in there might provide us with other leads."

Bernstein sighed, "Come with me Admiral, Ed." He got up and led A.J. and Sheffield out of his office and into a conference room just off it. The room was filled with large cardboard boxes overflowing with papers and documents.

Bernstein gestured, taking in the entire room. "It was a long and complex investigation. We've subpoenaed everything relating to it. This is just the first batch. More are due to arrive over the next few days so I'm afraid I won't be able to pass on everything to you. Even if my partners and I ignored all our other clients, it's going to take weeks for the staff just to log all this."

"I don't have anything constructive to do currently." Sheffield noted, "And I have a very personal interest in the outcome of this case. I'll help, and I'm sure Beth and Amy will as well."

"I don't normally like clients taking such an active part in the preparation of their defense," Bernstein noted, "But, in the circumstances, I'm prepared to make an exception."

"And I can think of a number of JAG staff who might be prepared to help out in their spare time." A.J. offered. "I'll ask them."

Bernstein nodded, "Thanks."

A.J. and Sheffield finished their drinks and left the law offices. As they waited for the elevator, Sheffield turned to the Admiral.

"A.J. I just want to thank you for everything you, Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie are doing." He said hesitantly, "I still have some friends at the Pentagon so I know what this is costing you. Tony Bernstein is paid to believe me when I say I'm innocent, I can't tell you how much it has meant to Beth, Amy and me to find there are people who don't need paying to believe that."

A.J. looked at his boss. He considered his next words carefully, then decided his relationship with Sheffield had evolved sufficiently to get away with it. "Mr. Secretary," he drawled, accentuating his southern accent, "You're a politician. That makes you a liar, a cheat and a thief by profession. But, I believe you are motivated by considerations other than hard cash ... unlike many of your colleagues. That makes you the best of a bad bunch. Besides…" he added with a straight face, "you're too smart to have gotten caught if you had been taking pay offs!"

Sheffield's face blanked with shock and then suddenly he began laughing. A.J. joined him. The elevator arrived and they were still laughing when they got in and it started to glide downwards.

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"**Razzmatazz"**

**Near George Washington University**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Monday, 13th May, 21:19 ZULU**

Harm and Bud pushed their way through the crowds. It was clear from the demographics that the bar was a young persons' hangout, popular with students from the nearby campus. If it was this crowded on Monday, a traditionally quiet night for bars, Harm hated to think what the place was like later in the week. The place was hot, in all senses of the word, and he could already feel a thin sheen of sweat forming over his body. The noise was almost overwhelming as people screamed at their neighbors to be heard over the loud music blaring from the oversized speakers. Harm wondered when he started getting old. A few years ago, he and his pilot buddies would have hung out in places almost exactly like this one and enjoyed every moment. Now, he found it all too much.

Eventually, they worked their way to the bar and ordered drinks. Sipping slowly, they turned and scanned the clientele. Never having seen so much as a picture of Pirelli, Harm was reliant on Bud to identify him.

"I can't see him Sir; maybe he didn't come here after all." Bud screamed in his ear.

"Keep looking Bud. His lab partner said he was planning to stop by and have a drink with a friend who's celebrating a birthday. He could be in one of the booths towards the back; let's take a recce."

The two of them forced their way through the crowd, getting odd looks from the other patrons. Although they were both dressed casually, they were at least ten years older than the average age of Razzmatazz's other customers. Harm noticed that some of the female patrons, however, were eyeing him appreciatively and felt a lot better. _"I've still got it!" _he thought.

As they neared the back on the bar, he felt a tug on his arm.

"Over there Sir!" Bud mouthed, indicating the direction with a slight jerk of his head. "Last booth but one from the back. Pirelli's sitting at the end with his back to the door."

Harm stared at their target, who was being very friendly with the young women next to him. "He seems to have gotten over Ms. Cheung." he noted dryly.

"Well, they have broken up, Sir." Bud pointed out reasonably. "What do we do now?"

Harm considered. When he had suggested this outing, it had been with a view to talking with Pirelli. He knew he was a good judge of character and had felt that, if nothing else, he could form an impression of his truthfulness. Unfortunately, these surroundings were not conducive to the sort of discussion he'd had in mind. He had just decided to call it an evening when Pirelli kissed his girlfriend and slid off his seat heading towards the men's room.

"Hold this Bud." Harm pushed his drink into Bud's free hand and followed Pirelli.

When he entered the head, he was pleased to note that it was almost empty and the decibel level of the music much reduced. He nodded to Pirelli and stood next to him as he zipped open his pants.

"Hi. Aren't you Thomas Pirelli?" he asked.

The young man gave him a suspicious look. "Who wants to know?"

"Harmon Rabb, Commander, U.S. Navy. A friend of mine, Sturgis Turner spoke to you about the meetings you witnessed between Secretary Sheffield and George Cleever of Sensa-Tech. He was the one who recommended you go to the U.S. Attorney with your story."

"Oh yeah! How did you recognize me?" Pirelli asked curiously. "I never met with Commander Turner; we only spoke on the phone."

Harm chuckled, "My cousin is visiting from Peoria and I wanted to show him the nightlife. He's an under-graduate at the University of Chicago so when someone said this place was a hangout for you GW guys it seemed like the place to start. I couldn't believe my luck when I overheard someone mention your name. Looks like your evidence really locks up the case against the SecNav."

Pirelli shrugged as he finished and begin zipping up, "I wouldn't know. I'm just doing my duty as a citizen."

"That's very commendable." Harm responded. "I just hope it doesn't affect your scholarship. I know Sensa-Tech are underwriting it and Cleever was working for them when he made the pay offs to Sheffield. It's going to be pretty embarrassing for the corporation."

Pirelli's face took on a look of panic, "Excuse me." He muttered, "I gotta go, my friends are waiting."

Harm watched as he scurried out of the room, not even stopping to wash his hands. He adjusted his own clothing, used the soap and water provided and then followed. Bud joined him just outside.

"What did you say to him Sir?" he asked, "He was moving like greased lightening when he came out. He headed straight for the door, didn't even say goodbye to his friends."

"Mr. Pirelli is definitely hiding something Bud." Harm responded. "And I think he only needs a little encouragement to give it up. Let's see if we can catch him up and lean on him some more."

The two of them edged through the crowd towards the door, they were almost outside when they heard a sound they were all too familiar with. There was the dry crack of a gunshot, closely followed by another.

"Get down!" Harm yelled as he and Bud dragged bar patrons away from the door and forced them to the ground.

"Call the police." yelled Bud.

The other customers fell into shocked silence, the only sound in the bar coming from the music still blaring out from the sound system.

After a pause, Harm and Bud moved cautiously towards the door and peeked out. Thomas Pirelli was lying face up on the side walk; bright red arterial blood splattered his shirt and jeans. There were two large holes puncturing his chest He was very, very dead.

One of the people who had been sitting with Pirelli pushed his way past them, caught sight of the body and began screaming.

T.B.C.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks everyone for your continuing support.

**Ed - **I'd love to update more regularly but I'm also working on two Alias stories and I tend to write a chapter of each story in strict rotation so, I'm sorry but the next update on this will be in about three weeks time. Hopefully, it will be worth the wait.

**Chapter 9**

**Outside "Razzmatazz"**

**Near George Washington University**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Monday, 13th May, 22:03 ZULU**

Det. Frank Coster stood inside the taped off area. The deceased had been formally pronounced dead and his body transported to the mortuary for autopsy. All that remained to show a casual observer that someone had died here were the smears of his blood on the sidewalk and the police activity roundabout. The spent rounds from the murder weapon, _or weapons, _he reminded himself, _we can't assume there was only one shooter at this stage, _had been retrieved and sent to the lab for analysis. Now, while he waited for the forensics people to work their magic, his job was to interview the witnesses. He'd already spoken briefly to a number of them and, as usual for D.C., no-one admitted to having actually witnessed the crime. It never ceased to amaze him how normally crowded streets suddenly became abandoned and empty in the minutes immediately before and after a murder. However, the victim had just exited the bar before being gunned down and someone there might be able to offer a lead. He sighed. Although he hadn't spoken to them yet, he'd recognized two of the patrons and their presence gave him a gut feeling this wasn't going to be a straightforward case. Setting his shoulders, he turned and walked into the establishment.

Razzmatazz was crowded, the sound system had been turned off and its customers sat or stood around, some silent, showing clear signs of the shock they felt at this sudden intrusion of violence into their lives, others were crowding round the uniformed officers protesting at being kept there and giving loud assurances that they weren't involved and hadn't seen anything. _At least they had the good sense to hold everyone here until we arrived, _he thought, _still, that was their duty as officers of the court. _Seeing his gold shield, some of the protesters turned away from the patrol officers and began moving towards him. He waved for them to be held back and made his way to the serving area, where the two men he wanted to speak to first were standing.

"Commander, Lieutenant." He greeted them courteously.

"Detective Coster. It's been a while." Commander Rabb responded.

"Yeah, must be nearly five years. That's the end of my good luck!" He looked around, noting the student clientele, "This doesn't seem to be the kind of place I'd expect you to patronize. Like to tell me what you're doing here?"

Rabb shrugged, "We're young at heart." he said. "Lieutenant Roberts and I wanted a drink. This place seemed as good as anywhere else."

"Huh! I've already spoken to a couple 'a people, they say you were talking to the deceased in the men's room shortly before he was whacked. Any comment?"

Rabb's smile was wide and bright as he replied, "Just passing the time of day, Detective."

"Right!" Coster grunted. "And you and the Lieutenant here weren't the two guys looking for him at the campus earlier this evening?" He saw from their reaction his comment had hit home and pressed further. "If this was a hit, someone had to know he'd be here so I checked with the University to see if anyone had been showing an interest in him recently. It may or may not surprise you to know you two were the only people fitting that criteria."

"Couldn't this just have been a drive by, Detective?" Lieutenant Roberts asked.

"This is a nice neighborhood Lieutenant, not Petworth or Eckington." Coster replied. "Around here drive bys are about as common as snow in July. No, Pirelli was either the intended target or he was mistaken for someone else. The hit was slick; I'm guessing he was the target, especially since you were taking so much interest in him. Now, do you want to share here, or do I have to take you downtown?"

Rabb appeared to consider. He was just about to reply when there was a commotion at the entrance. All three turned towards the interruption.

"I'm an Assistant U.S. Attorney. Let me in!" a thirty something woman was shouting at the officer who was trying to bar her way.

Coster heard Rabb groan. "You'd better do as she asks Detective." he advised.

Coster gestured towards the officer who stood back. The woman looked round, then marched towards him.

"Hi Harm. Why aren't I surprised to see you here?" she asked before turning towards him and flashing her ID. "Detective, I'm Samantha Bruckner. Thomas Pirelli was a key witness in the corruption case my office has built against Edward Sheffield. We want to be kept in the loop on your investigation. Please fill me in on what you have to date." She glanced towards Rabb and Roberts. "Privately!" she added.

**Sheffield Residence,**

**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 01:27 ZULU**

Sheffield jerked awake as the banging and shouting infiltrated his consciousness.

"This is the police. Open up!"

Beth had also been awakened, only the deaf or the totally intoxicated could have slept through the noise. She turned and looked at him worriedly.

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He tried to reassure her as he put on his dressing gown. "I'm keeping all my bail conditions; they can't take me into custody without another court hearing."

"Mr. Sheffield, we have a search warrant. If you don't open the door voluntarily, we'll have to break it down!"

Sheffield saw Beth's worry turn to fear as he shouted back, "I'm coming! I'm coming! We were asleep. You've just woken us. Wait a second!"

He walked out on to the landing where Amy was standing, staring down at the door, her face showing the same fear as her mother's. Suddenly Sheffield felt very angry at the psychological torture this entire affair was putting his family through. He strode down the stairs, unlocked the door and flung it open.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked. "Do you know what the time is? You've already searched my house once. This is harassment; I'll have my attorney's slap so many civil suits on your asses you'll be tied up in court from now till doomsday!"

There were at least a dozen police officers outside, the county sheriff, whose election Sheffield had supported, among them. He hung back looking embarrassed at being there. The officer nearest the door flashed a D.C. detective's badge at him. "We're not the Feds. Mr. Sheffield. Thomas Pirelli was murdered this evening. He was the most damaging witness against you so you had motive. We have a warrant to search your house for evidence."

The man made to force his way in but Sheffield stood firm, blocking the doorway. "Let me see your warrant first." he demanded. The detective handed him the document and Sheffield scanned it. Everything appeared to me in order so he reluctantly stood back to let the officers in.

The detective looked him up and down. "You'd better put some clothes on." he suggested. "I want you to come down to the precinct with me for questioning."

Sheffield quickly went through his options. Unless they had an arrest warrant as well, legally speaking he was under no obligation to go. If he didn't however, that could be interpreted as an indication of guilt. There was also a faint possibility that his bail could be revoked for failing to co-operate with a police enquiry. He looked squarely at the detective, "I want to explain what's happening to my family and call my lawyer before I leave." he said.

The man nodded, "OK by me. I'll keep you company while you dress and talk."

**1st District Police Station**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 02:52 ZULU**

Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Mackenzie climbed the steps to the building. She passed through the double doors, entered the shabby public area, went up to the officer standing behind the shatter proof protective glass window and introduced herself.

"I'm Lieutenant Commander Rabb and Lieutenant Roberts' lawyer." she added.

The man nodded and soon she was escorted to an interview room where Harm and Bud sat waiting for her. She turned to the officer who stood guard in the corner, "I'd like to speak to my clients alone." she said firmly and the woman grudgingly left.

Once the door was closed she turned on her comrades, "What the hell were you thinking?" she asked angrily. "You're both lawyers you should know better than to talk to the police without a lawyer present!"

"Excuse me M'am, but we don't know anything about Pirelli's murder. It came as a complete surprise!" Bud protested.

"Since when has that been important?" Mac snapped. "You don't talk to the police without a lawyer, that's first year law school stuff!"

"OK, OK, we should have called sooner!" Harm agreed. "Now, can you get us out of here?"

"I'll try but according to the D.A. you're material witnesses to the murder and the police think you're holding something back. He's threatening to hold you."

"But we didn't see anything!" Bud responded. "We were in the bar. We were just about to follow him when the shooting started. By the time we looked out the killers had already gone!"

"We've already given statements. There's no evidence we're not co-operating fully with the investigation. Tell him we'll make ourselves available for further questioning. If they still insist on holding us, threaten them with habeas corpus." Harm urged.

"I'll talk to the A.D.A. in charge of the case but I've got to warn you, Pirelli's murder isn't your only problem. Sam Bruckner's on the warpath as well. She suspects your presence at Razzmatazz was linked to the case against the SECNAV."

Harm grinned, "She's a very insightful person. But so what? We were curious and wanted to meet the guy whose evidence was going to put away the SECNAV. That's not illegal."

Mac got up and went to the door. "I'll talk to the A.D.A. now and try to persuade him not to carry out his threat to issue material witness warrants against you. I'll be back as soon as I can. In the meantime, don't talk to anyone." She paused with the door half open, "By the way, do either of you know where the Admiral is? I tried to contact him earlier but he's not answering his home phone and his cell was turned off."

Both Harm and Bud shook their heads as she left. Out in the corridor, she took out her cell and began punching in the A.D.A.'s number when the sound of footsteps on the stairs disturbed her. She looked up to see Detective Coster and a unformed officer accompanying the SECNAV. He was unshaven and his clothes looked like they'd been thrown on in a hurry, a far cry from his normal immaculate appearance. Although he wasn't handcuffed, it was clear to anyone familiar with police procedure that he was under escort. She stepped back to let them pass and her eyes locked briefly with Sheffield's. She read the concern and tightly controlled anger in them. As Coster opened the door to one of the other interview rooms and ushered him in, she called directory enquiries and asked for Tony Bernstein's home number. Hopefully, the SECNAV had had the good sense to have already called his lawyer but that quality seemed in short supply tonight.

As she stood waiting for Bernstein to pick up, another group turned the corner of the stairs and came into view. She glanced towards them, then stared in shock. _Well at least I know where the admiral is!_ She thought as he came abreast of her.

He stopped, forcing his escort to halt also. "Ah, Colonel." He greeted her, "You've saved me a telephone call. These guys want to talk to me about my activities this evening. I'd like you to represent me."

"Aye Sir." she replied. _Are Harriet and Sturgis going to turn up as well? Boy! Talk about the gang's all here!_

As she followed Chegwidden he asked conversationally, "Do you know where Rabb is by any chance? I tried to call him earlier but there was no answer from his cell."

T.B.C.


	10. Chapter 10

Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter people…computer trouble!!!!

**Chapter 10**

**1st District Police Station**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 05:22 ZULU**

A.J. and Mac sat impatiently in the shabby interview room with its dog eared posters warning of the dangers of catching HIV from infected needles and out of date ten most wanted's. It had been over an hour since they had been shown inside and they had been left alone ever since. Initially, they had been able to use the time productively. A.J. had briefed Mac on how the police had turned up at his house and she had contacted the A.D.A. and arranged for Harm and Bud's release. She had escorted them out of the station and given them instructions to go straight home half an hour earlier. Unfortunately, she had been unable to get in touch with Bernstein but she had heard him arriving shortly after she and Chegwidden had been placed in the room. She assumed that Sheffield had phoned him before leaving his home and was grateful that one person beside herself had remembered the golden rule for dealing with the police that night. Now she and the Admiral waited for their turn to be interviewed.

A.J. had been silent for several minutes but the tension building inside him was clear when he finally spoke. "Surely they don't think Sheffield or I had anything to do with Pirelli's death?" he burst out.

Mac shrugged. "After Watergate, Irangate and all the other gates, this Town will believe anything." she replied.

A.J. got up and stretched. "What's taking them so long?" he asked.

"Sir, you need to try and stay calm. They're leaving us to stew. You know that's a standard interrogation technique and you mustn't let it get to you. Beside, they're probably still interviewing the SECNAV."

A.J. glared at her, "I know all about interrogation techniques Colonel, both as a lawyer and a former SEAL!"

Mac didn't let her superior intimidate her. "I know Admiral. But it's different when you're innocent."

A.J. stared at her, and then collapsed in his chair. "You're right, of course. But it's easier said than done!" After a pause he asked, "Sam Bruckner knows us. She's worked closely with JAG on a couple of cases. Does she really think we're deliberately obstructing justice here?"

Mac considered, "I'm fairly sure her boss does. Sam herself, maybe not, but I think she believes we're keeping things from her."

The Admiral gave a rueful smile, "Well, she's not entirely wrong about that." he admitted.

The conversation came to a halt as the door opened and Detective Coster entered, accompanied by another detective and a uniformed officer. "Hi, sorry to keep you folks waiting, I hope you've been well looked after." He looked round. "Hasn't anyone offered you coffee?" he asked. "Hey, I'm sorry. I thought I'd organized refreshments for you earlier." He turned to the uniform, "Costello, get these people some coffee. How do you take it? Oh, and bring some cookies too."

A.J. and Mac both recognized this as one of the standard openings to an interview, intended to get the person being questioned to bond with the interrogator. On the other hand, they were hungry and thirsty so they accepted the offer and Costello disappeared to fetch their orders. The other detective remained standing in the corner.

Coster leaned back in his chair and looked at the two naval officers across the table from him. "I was only just saying to Secretary Sheffield that we don't often play host to important government officials' here." he said conversationally. "It's a shame it has to be under these circumstances but I'm sure you'll co-operate so we can finish up quickly."

Mac remembered the man and the run around JAG had given him from the Roscoe Martin affair nearly five years ago. She hoped he didn't hold grudges. She and the Admiral had already discussed their strategy and agreed that telling the truth was not only the most ethical way forward, it was also the safest. Of course, Coster and anyone else for that matter might think it was odd for the Judge Advocate General to be meeting with a criminal defendant and their lawyer but it wasn't actually illegal. The situation was complicated by them not knowing what Sheffield and Bernstein might have told him but there didn't seem to be any advantage to them lying about it.

"I'm Admiral Chegwidden's attorney. He has nothing to hide. Please ask your questions." she replied.

Coster nodded enthusiastically. "That's great! OK, where were you this evening Admiral?"

Chegwidden answered, "I left JAG HQ at about 6 o'clock and drove into Washington where I met with Secretary Sheffield and his lawyer at Mr. Bernstein's law office. I got there at about 7 o'clock. We had a drink and talked for a while. Mr. Sheffield and I left just before 8. We split up on the sidewalk and I went directly home, arriving there at nine-ish or so."

"Any witnesses to that?"

"Not unless you count my dog." A.J. answered.

"That's a bit unfortunate." Coster noted.

A.J. shrugged, "If you did a survey right now, I bet you'd find a lot of people who can't find anyone to confirm their whereabouts at 9:30 this evening."

"Why 9:30?" Coster barked.

A.J. stared him straight in the face. "Because I understand from Colonel Mackenzie that was the approximate time Thomas Pirelli was murdered." He sat back and smiled at the detective, "Come on Coster, this ain't about unpaid traffic tickets!"

"Hum! You're right, a lot of people couldn't provide an alibi witness for a particular time, but then they aren't military. I've had a look at your record, Admiral. You were a SEAL sniper in 'Nam. So, you're experienced with guns and killing."

"I did my duty." A.J. said tightly.

"I'm sure you did." Neither A.J. nor Mac missed the undertone of sarcasm in Coster's voice. Then he seemed to change tack, "When you left Sheffield, did he say where he was going?"

"He said he was going home."

Coster changed the subject again, a common approach in interviews designed to disorientate witnesses and make it more difficult for them to maintain a consistent lie. "What route did you take home?"

"I got on the Southeast Parkway, went over the bridge to I395 and turned off at the Little River Turnpike. After that I used the back roads."

Coster scribbled this down. "We'll see if there's any CCTV footage to confirm that." he said. "What were you and the others talking about in Bernstein's law office?"

"I was volunteering to use some of my off-duty time to help with Secretary Sheffield's defense. I'm not prepared to go into further detail."

"As a Federal employee, don't you have a conflict of interest?"

"That's for an ethics hearing to determine, not the police." A.J. replied coldly.

"OK, OK. I'm only saying! I'd like you to stay here while we check out your story."

Mac intervened. "Admiral Chegwidden has answered your questions. He will make himself available for further questioning, IF you think it necessary after you've finished your checks. I'm sure you don't want to detain a senior U.S Navy officer unnecessarily so he's leaving now. Unless, that is, you want to arrest him for something?"

Coster paused. "We'll be in touch Admiral. Just don't leave town without checking with us first." He got up and left, the other detective following.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Thomas Pirelli's Residence**

**31, West Caroline Avenue**

**Beltsville, Maryland**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 09:43 ZULU**

After leaving the police station, Bud and Harm had gone direct to Harm's place. Bud had phoned Harriet and reassured her he was safe and well and checked on the kids before they had both crashed for a few hours. They had woken early and phoned in to work to take some personal time. The Admiral hadn't yet shown up so they had spoken to Coates who told them the place was awash with rumors about the killing of Pirelli and the Admiral being taken in for questioning. After a quick breakfast they'd driven to Beltville and now sat in Harm's car across the street from Pirelli's address. It was a decent neighborhood, the houses undistinguished architecturally but well maintained.

"What about the police, Sir?" Bud asked worriedly.

"That's the good thin with having a decentralized law enforcement system, Bud." Harm explained. "The murder happened in Washington, so as far as the police here are concerned it's NOP, Not Our Problem. The most they'll have done is tell Pirelli's landlady she needs to find a new lodger and maybe, as a courtesy to the D.C. police, quickly searched his room. They'll have enough crime here in Beltsville to keep them occupied without getting involved in stuff happening elsewhere."

"That doesn't include the Feds." Bud pointed out.

Harm gave him a big smile, "Exactly why we need to get in quick." he said. "Let's go."

They got out of the car and strolled across the street, knocking on the door to number 31. An elderly, severe looking woman with an old fashioned bun wound tight on the top of her head answered.

Harm gave her a sympathetic smile. "Mrs. Doran?" he asked. When she nodded affirmation, he went on, "Harmon Rabb and Bud Roberts. We were with Tom just before it happened. We know you and he were close so we thought we'd come and offer our condolences."

The woman looked them up and down and they could feel her appraising them. _Nice, clean cut, respectable folks_ they could almost hear her thinking. She took out a hankie and dabbed her eyes before smiling at them.

"Such a nice, polite boy, not at all like so many of the others his age. I was like a second mother to him. So sad, but that's what happens in the big cities these days. I'll miss him. You were friends of his?"

"We weren't close but we knew him." Harm replied carefully.

She nodded, "Well come in. Do you want a cup of tea and some cake?"

"Thank you Ma'm that will be great!" Bud replied.

They sat in the large reception room as Mrs. Doran busied herself in the kitchen after refusing their offers of help. Finally, she returned with a tray and poured their tea.

"So, do you know when the funeral's going to take place?" she asked. "I guess his poor parents are going to want to take the body home to Jayes Crossing. I was thinking of arranging a small memorial service for all his friends here... or is the University organizing something?"

"I'm not sure Ma'm I think it's too early for them to have decided. If we hear anything, we'll let you know." Bud replied through a mouthful of cake.

"What about his employers?" Harm asked. "Are they doing anything? Didn't he work for Sensa-Tech during vacations? I understand they'd given him a scholarship."

"Oh yes! I know they thought very highly of him. Why the head of their Research Division visited him here several times and a couple of senior executives came over to see him only a week or so ago! He had such a bright future ahead of him. All this violence these days! I blame lethal injection. Where's the deterrent in executing these killers in the same way you'd put your old and sick pet dog out of its misery?"

"Some people from Sensa-Tech were here recently?" Harm said, gently guiding her back to the point. "Do you know who they were? Maybe we could contact them to find out if they're planning some sort of memorial."

Mrs. Doran frowned, "I don't remember their names but Tom took me to a company barbeque once and I remember seeing them there. I took pictures. Maybe if I give you one with them in, it'll help you track them down."

"That would be great, Ma'm, thanks."

The landlady rose and went to a cupboard and opened it. It was full of photograph albums, each one carefully labeled. Harm assumed photography was at least one of her hobbies. She took one out and began leafing through it. "I can't remember exactly when it was." she explained, "But if it's not in this one, it'll be in the one just before or after."

"Take your time, Mrs. Doran. We're in no hurry." Harm assured her. "Oh, would it be OK to use your bathroom please?"

She nodded. "Of course young man. It's at the top of the stairs on your right."

"Thanks." Harm turned to Bud and his unspoken message was clear. _Keep her busy while I check out Pirelli's bedroom._

Bud's concern was clear but he nodded his understanding and agreement.

T.B.C.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

**1st District Police Station**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 10:11 ZULU**

"So what do you have?" Samantha Bruckner wrinkled her nose as she sipped from the plastic cup. "Why does all P.D. coffee taste like aviation fuel?"

Detective Coster grinned at her. "The caffeine hit gees us up for long shifts, like now." he replied. He pushed a set of blurry photographs over to her. "These are stills from CCTV footage. The sequence shows Admiral Chegwidden's car following the route he told us and the time stamps are also consistent with his story. We lost him after he turned off on to the Little River Turnpike but all the indications are he was headed home."

"And Sheffield?"

Coster handed her another set of photographs. "Apparently he wanted to commune with the great and good so he took a route home past the National Mall, crossing the Arlington Memorial Bridge on to the George Washington Parkway, then onto the Georgetown Pike just past Chain Bridge and on home, arriving there about 9:15. These track his vehicle's progress until he turned off the Pike."

"So he was near Georgetown. He could have come back into D.C. by going over either the Key or Chain Bridge." Sam Bruckner remarked.

"Sure, he could have!" Costers replied, "But look at the time stamps. He was definitely on the Pike at 8:42 and the shooting took place at around 9:30. His wife and daughter also confirm the time he arrived home."

"And the wives and daughters of defendants always tell the truth!" Sam noted cynically. She squinted at the picture. "I can't make out the driver. It could be anyone."

"True, but in my experience white collar criminals rarely resort to violence to get rid of hostile witnesses. Bribery, yes, murder, no. And, even if this was one of those rare occasions, I doubt he'd do the job himself."

"Maybe." Sam mused. "You got a warrant for his financials? In his position, he'd know a lot of people with military training. He could have paid someone else to do the actual hit."

"Like Admiral Chegwidden, you mean? Do you really think he's implicated in any of this? After all, there's no evidence he was in his car at the time it was picked up on CCTV either."

Sam frowned. "I've worked with him on a couple of cases and he's always struck me as an honorable man but I have to ask myself why he's sticking his neck out to support Sheffield. The evidence against the man is overwhelming."

Coster nodded. "I've had dealings with Chegwidden before and I got the feeling he'd take things right up to the line if necessary, even push it a bit, but cross it? No." he agreed. "Yeah, the judge wasn't happy about the warrant. He pointed out you guys had already subpoenaed Sheffield's financial records and thought it smacked of harassment but we explained the circumstances and he eventually signed. Our people are going over them now."

"OK. Let me know if you find anything. I'll brief my boss on what you've got so far. Oh, and thanks for the coffee!" Sam smiled, picked up her briefcase and left the room.

Coster glanced at the cup, it was still half full.

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**Thomas Pirelli's Residence**

**31, West Caroline Avenue**

**Beltsville, Maryland**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 10:28 ZULU**

Harm reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to the bathroom, closing it again loudly. He glanced down the hallway, there were five other doors. He looked for any guide as to which was, _had been _he reminded himself, Pirelli's room. The discovery was made easy for him as one of the doors had a single piece of blue and white tape across it at chest height. Harm silently moved towards the door and read the words on the tape _Police Line – Do Not Cross._ He reached out and turned the door knob, the door swung open; ducking under the tape he entered the room. It was a fairly standard student's bedroom, if tidier than most, with posters of bands and singers he'd never heard of decorating the walls, a micro hi-fi system in one corner and text books jumbled together with a smattering of popular fiction in a rackety bookcase. He glanced at the titles and noted that Pirelli had been an SF fan.

Harm knew he didn't have much time before Mrs. Doran became suspicious so he quickly turned to what, judging by the desk lamp and lap top had been Pirelli's work desk. He switched on the computer and located a box of unused discs. Slipping one into the CD drive he began downloading Pirelli's files and emails, noting as he did so that some of the information appeared to be password protected. Strictly speaking what he was doing was theft but he assuaged his conscience by telling himself that he was engaged in a search for the truth and he would pay the cost of the disc into Pirelli's estate.

As the lap top clicked away, he quickly went through the desk draws but found nothing useful, only letters from family members and girlfriends. The letters showed he'd enjoyed a normal loving relationship with his parents and siblings and a healthy love life. In the bottom draw he found a file marked Sensa-Tech and was momentarily excited, this turned to disappointment when he found it contained only routine correspondence about his vacation employment and he put it back in the draw. Harm glanced at the lap top, willing it to download faster, he'd been up here for almost ten minutes now and Mrs. Doran was going to begin wondering where he was. Finally, the computer showed the download as complete and, with a sigh of relief, he pocketed the disc and left the room, closing the door behind him after carefully checking he'd left everything as he'd found it. He went to the bathroom, pulled the handle and ran the taps, then walked down the stairs.

"Thanks, Mrs. Doran." Harm said, smiling broadly at her.

Bud's expression was one of relief as he said, "Mrs. Doran has found the picture, err…Harm. Here it is!" He quickly showed it and Harm saw three people smiling for the camera. One he recognized as Pirelli, the other two were older and had that satisfied look that came with success.

"You can keep it if it will help you to find them and ask if they're planning any sort of service for Tom." Mrs. Doran added, "I got plenty more."

"It will be really useful. Thanks again!" Harm replied. "Look, we can't keep you any longer, we'd better get going. We'll let you know if the University or Sensa-Tech are planning anything in Tom's memory."

Mrs. Doran nodded. "Thank you, young man." she said as she showed them out.

Harm and Bud strolled over to their car, got in and slowly drove off. As they turned the corner, two dark cars passed them, heading towards the Doran residence. Harm recognized the make and mentally thanked whatever divinity protected ex flyboy lawyers. They'd missed the Feds by minutes!

"You were gone a long time Sir!" Bud said reproachfully, "Mrs. Doran was beginning to eye the stairs suspiciously and I was running out to things to stall her with."

"Nothing ventured, Bud, nothing gained!" Harm replied lightly. He dived into his pocket and took out the disc. I downloaded everything on Pirelli's lap top onto this. He's protected some of it. You and Harriet are the IT experts, could you check and see if there's anything that could help us on it? I'll drop you off at your place on the way back."

Bud took the disc. "OK, we can do that." He paused, "Sir, aren't there ethical issues here about removing evidence?"

Harm grinned, "I didn't remove it Bud; I simply copied it. The investigation has not been compromised by my actions."

"I doubt they'll look at it that way."

"What they don't know won't hurt them." Harm remarked as they hit the Interstate and he concentrated on his driving.

**Sheffield Residence**

**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 09:37 ZULU**

Amy Sheffield listened to the ZNN report in disbelief that rapidly turned to anger. She and her mother had had little sleep the night before. She'd watched as her father was taken away and police officers had crashed around, searching his study for goodness knew what. Afterwards they'd been questioned about his movements earlier that evening. Finally, after the police had left, neither of them had felt like returning to bed. They'd sat together at the kitchen table, hardly talking, both of them refusing to share their mutual fear that Sheffield would be arrested and held.

This, at least, had not happened. Tony Bernstein had dropped off her exhausted and quietly fuming father just after seven o'clock and, after a reunion with her tearful mother, both of them had retired to bed to try to get some sleep. She'd felt angry and frustrated at her powerlessness to stop their pain as he'd watched them embrace.

With the resilience of the young and the strength of her anger she hadn't felt tired. For a time, she'd tried to concentrate on her medical studies but she was too keyed up so she'd switched on the TV only to hear her father's name and see his picture on almost every news channel. Yesterday he'd been treated with respect as a senior Government official, now these talking heads were openly speculating that he had not only betrayed the trust of the American people but committed a murder as well. The man they were describing was not the father she knew and people ought to be told that. She came to a rapid decision, scrawled a note for her parents, checked her car keys were in her purse and strode out of the house.

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**Mac's Apartment**

**Georgetown**

**Washington, D.C**.

**Tuesday, 14th May, 10:13 ZULU**

Mac sat at the table and ate her breakfast as she flicked through the newspapers. Fortunately, the news about Sheffield and the Admiral being taken in for questioning had been too late to catch the morning papers, even the Bugle was leading with an expose of a rock star's private life. The TV and radio were a different matter, they were full of it, leading her to, once again, be amazed at the capacity of the twenty four hour news channels to drag out a story despite the lack of any actual information. She felt for Tony Bernstein, the jury in Sheffield's corruption trial was out there listening to his name being linked to Pirelli's murder and the basic human belief that there was no smoke without fire would make finding a jury without pre-conceptions about the SECNAV's guilt that much more difficult.

She glanced at her watch. It was already mid-morning and she should get ready for work. After leaving the police station both she and the Admiral had agreed to get some rest and get into JAG at around mid-day. Before getting dressed however, she decided she'd phone Harm to find out his plans. She hit the speed dial for his apartment and waited but it cut to voicemail after five rings. _Perhaps he's already left for work_ she thought before contacting Coates and discovering bothhe and Bud were taking a personal day. _What the heck are they up to? That flyboy had better not get Bud into any trouble. Harriet will kill him, if he does!_

She tried both Harm and Bud's cells but they were turned off. Harriet, when contacted, reported that Bud had phoned her at about 06:00 hours to say he was staying with Harm. She'd heard nothing since but had assumed he had gone straight into work from there.

Mac pushed down her anxiety. _They're both adults, they'll be OK_ she told herself as she went into the bedroom to dress. The phone rang and she snatched it up "Harm?" she asked.

Instead, Secretary Sheffield's instantly recognizable voice came down the line. "Colonel, I'm sorry to bother you." he began and Mac heard the tension in his voice.

"Not at all, Mr. Secretary." she replied. "How can I help?"

Sheffield's voice was uncharacteristically diffident as he replied, "It's my daughter, Amy. She was always headstrong. She's gone into D.C. She left her mother and me a note saying she's going to set the record straight about me with the radio and news channels. We think she's planning to volunteer to appear on them. You know how those sharks will treat her; I don't want her to be hurt. Look, I hesitate to ask this of you, I've tried to contact Bernstein but he's not answering his phone. I know you live in Washington so I was wondering…?

Mac sighed but she understood what Sheffield was worried about, "Not at all, Sir. I'll try to cut her off at the pass. What does she drive?"

After taking down the information, she quickly rang off and reviewed her options as she finished dressing. Sheffield hadn't known what time Amy had left so there was no way of knowing whether she'd had time to reach D.C. as yet. The best chance of finding her would be at a radio or TV studio, the question was, which one? After considering it for a while, Mac came to a decision, ZNN was the largest, Amy was bright, she'd want to get her message across to the widest possible audience so that was her most likely first call. Mac grabbed her car keys and left the apartment.

**T.B.C**.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank everyone for your reviews,

**michelle UK -** sorry for the delay in revealing the contents of the disc.

**McRose - **Yeah, I like a story where I have to go back to re-check facts too. Hopefully I can keep this up!!

**Chapter 12**

**Sheffield Residence**

**Loudoun County, Virginia**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 11:18 ZULU**

"It's going to be OK, Beth. Colonel Mackenzie will stop her." Sheffield placed a comforting hand on his wife's shoulder.

Beth Sheffield caressed his hand as she replied, "Please God she does. I know Amy is legally an adult, but she's still very naïve, especially about politics. I hate to think of her facing hostile questions about you from the likes of Dianne Wallace or Stuart Harmon."

"I don't think they'll be openly hostile. It would be better if they were, Amy is an intelligent woman and she'll be able to cope with aggressive questioning. What worries me is they'll go soft with her; get her to relax and draw her into saying things she'll later regret. Things they can twist to make me look bad. The media already have their spin and nothing is going to change that except some smoking gun proving my innocence. "

"And when she realizes she's given them more ammunition to fire at you, she'll feel so guilty. Oh, God, when will this nightmare stop?" Beth turned and clung to her husband for comfort and strength.

Sheffield embraced his wife clumsily. He was not normally a demonstrative man and she was normally so self possessed. In all their years of marriage he had never seen her so vulnerable. "Honey, I'm so sorry for all this, so very sorry!"

Beth raised her head and he was relieved to see her expression had changed to show the strong, determined woman he'd married. "Did you do what the prosecutors say you did? Did you take bribes from Sensa-Tech? Did you kill Thomas Pirelli?"

He looked her in the eyes. "No and no." he replied.

"Then don't you dare apologize, Ed. This isn't your fault. It's those idiots at DoJ who don't know you as well as Amy and me. We'll get through it and come out stronger than ever!"

For the first time, Sheffield shared the fear he had been living with since his indictment. "What if we don't?" he asked. "What if I'm found guilty?"

"Then we'll appeal, all the way to the Supreme Court if we have to!"

"Sweetheart!" Sheffield beat back the guilt he felt at bringing the wife and daughter he loved to this as they embraced long and hard.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**ZNN Studio's Parking Lot**

**Washington D.C.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 11:22 ZULU**

Mac pulled into the lot. It was full and she didn't waste any time looking for Amy Sheffield's vehicle. If she was here, the best place to find out was by asking at Reception so she straightened her uniform jacket and strode into the building.

"Has Ms. Sheffield arrived yet?" she briskly asked the young woman behind the desk.

The woman, who was about the same age as Amy Sheffield, reacted to the authoritive manner in which the question had been posed.

"Yes Ma'am. She's in hospitality."

"Good. Please point out where that is."

"Down there, second door on the left," the woman pointed, then her training began to kick in, "…err, and you are?"

"Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie, JAG." Mac gave the receptionist a friendly smile; the sudden change in her attitude once again taking her off guard. "I just need to speak to her for a moment." With that, she walked decisively in the direction indicated.

The Hospitality Room was empty except for a young woman sipping a drink. It was colorless but Mac guessed it was alcoholic. It was standard practice in the television industry to offer guests, especially ones not accustomed to being interviewed on air, something to relax them and loosen their tongues before interviews.

Even if there had been others present, Mac would have recognized the woman as Amy Sheffield from the TV coverage of her father's arraignment and her resemblance to both her parents. On the way over, she'd given a lot of thought to how she was going to approach what was going to be a difficult meeting.

"Ms. Sheffield; Hi. I'm Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie. I work at JAG. I was one of the people who defended your father at The Hague."

Amy looked up. "I know who you are. Why are you here?"

"Your father asked me to talk to you. Appearing on TV in front of millions of people can be very stressful and he wants to make sure you're OK."

"He wants you to persuade me not to do it, you mean. Look, Colonel, I know he wants to protect me but he has to realize he can't. What happens to him affects everyone who loves him. Last night they searched our house, then took him away like he was some drug dealer. Mom and I didn't know when, or even if, he'd be coming back. They have no right to treat him like some criminal! Don't they realize everything he's done for this country? If people knew him like I do, they'd know how ridiculous these charges were. I don't understand why he isn't defending himself more but if he won't, I will!"

Mac sighed, telling a loving daughter the facts about the realities of the criminal justice system were never easy. "Amy, the law is based around provable facts that can be submitted into evidence and the prosecution thinks they have enough to convict your father of accepting bribes. What you feel about him and the sort of man he is, isn't something that a prosecutor would accept so, unless you have tangible facts proving his innocence, nothing you say will prevent the case from going forward. I'm sorry, but that's the truth."

"The jury's out there, they can be influenced by what I tell them about what Dad is really like."

"Yes, they can, and I'm sure Mr. Bernstein is planning a media strategy to present your Father in a sympathetic light. You have to be careful here because I'm sure you don't want to say anything publicly that would affect his ability to do that. The news media is a business. It chases ratings. When you're interviewed, the presenter is going to try to make you say more than you mean to and then they're going to try to twist it into something sensational." Seeing that Amy was unconvinced, she went on, "Let me give you an example; what did your father do the evening he was indicted?"

"He came home and sat alone in his study for a long time."

"He was depressed?"

"Of course he was depressed!"

"So he was contemplating suicide, perhaps to protect you and your mother from the knowledge of his crimes?"

"Of course he wasn't! How can you say such a thing! I thought you believed he was innocent!"

"I do, but that's the sort of interpretation the media might put on his actions."

Amy was silent for a bit and Mac could see she was getting through. "I see what you mean," she said slowly, "I can remember commentators saying things like that in other cases …but I'm not going to back out of the interview now, I've given my word!" she added fiercely. "Can you help me to get through it without harming him further?"

_Well, at least she came by her stubbornness honestly!_ Mac thought resignedly. "OK, we don't have a lot of time. Just follow these very simple rules when you answer questions…"

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Roberts' Residence**

**Near Falls Church,**

**Virginia.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 20:29 ZULU**

A.J. pulled his car up in front of the Roberts house, noting as he did so, that Lieutenant-Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb had already arrived. Although he would never admit it to anyone, except perhaps Meredith, it had been a lonely day at JAG without their presence. Once again he found himself having to walk the gauntlet of the whispered conversations that suddenly cut off when he appeared and the speculative glances cast in his direction when they thought he couldn't see them. Also, there had been no contact from the Acting SECNAV or CNO's offices. That was a relief in one way but worrying in another. He felt like a man standing on the edge of a crumbling ledge, knowing for a certainty that it was going to give way but not exactly when. He straightened his shoulders and rang the doorbell. It was almost immediately answered by Lieutenant Harriet Sims-Roberts. As usual, when faced with her cheerful face and optimistic personality, he felt some of his tension ease.

She smiled in welcome as she invited him in. "Admiral, you're just in time. We're just about to put little A.J. to bed. I know he'd love for you to say goodnight to him!"

A.J. walked into the living room to find his two best litigators on their hands and knees. Harm and little A.J. were engaged in a dogfight with model planes while Mac appeared to be organizing some sort of ground defense with model tanks and soldiers. Bud was sitting on the sofa urging his eldest son on. The noise of simulated combat filled the air. Seeing his superior officer enter, Harm allowed himself to be hit and brought his plane down, diving it nose first into the carpet.

"Agh, you got me!" he cried, pressing his hands on to an imaginary wound as he slowly collapsed next to his plane.

Little A.J. chuckled and followed up his success by making a strafing run over Mac's ground defense. Mac toppled over the vehicles and soldiers and followed Harm onto the carpet with appropriate sound effects. Little A.J. looked up and gave the admiral a triumphant grin.

"Well done, son." The Admiral complimented him, "But don't decide to be a pilot just yet, there are other areas of the Service just as satisfying."

"A.J., it's time for bed now. Say goodnight to everyone." Harriet bustled forward.

"Mom, just another five minutes… please!" her son pleaded.

"Now, sir! There's fresh pajamas on the bed and remember to wash behind your ears. I'll be up in ten minutes to check and read you a story."

A.J. looked mutinous.

"Do as your Mom says young man, that's an order!" Bud added in support of his wife.

Little A.J. looked at the Admiral who nodded his confirmation. The boy nodded back, smiled and went the rounds. After receiving hugs from all present he quietly went upstairs, leaving the adults in command of the battlefield.

"He's growing up fast." Chegwidden commented.

"Tell me about it, sir! I'm so glad we've got James now. I miss a baby around the house." Harriet replied. "Now, coffee, tea anyone?"

As she went into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee, A.J. turned to Mac, "You did a good job with damage control on Amy Sheffield, Colonel." he noted. "I know the SECNAV didn't want her to appear at all but at least thanks to you, she didn't say anything that could have been twisted against him."

Mac nodded. "She's an intelligent young woman, sir. Once she realized the danger, it wasn't hard." she replied.

Finally, little A.J. safety tucked in bed, James checked on and the coffee pot half empty, the meeting of what he'd overheard Coates in a facetious moment call the 'Edward Sheffield Defense Committee" began it's deliberations.

"Where were you all day Commander?" A.J. asked Harm.

"Bud and I went to see Pirelli's landlady …" he began and everyone listened as he updated them on events. "…and Bud and Harriet have managed to access the files, including those that were password protected." he finished.

All eyes turned to the Roberts and Bud took the lead. "Yes sir. We wrote a program that bypassed the need for a password. There's no smoking gun in any of the documents but there is some very interesting information all the same…"

**T.B.C. **


	13. Chapter 13

Hi all! Here's the next chapter. Thanks, as ever, to everyone who's read and reviewed. I hope you continue to do so.

WARNING – A little mild swearing (just one word) in the middle of the chapter.

**Chapter 13**

**Roberts' Residence**

**Near Falls Church,**

**Virginia.**

**Tuesday, 14th May, 21:32 ZULU**

"_Bud and I went to see Pirelli's landlady …" Harm began and everyone listened as he updated them on events. "…and Bud and Harriet have managed to access the files, including those that were password protected." he finished._

_All eyes turned to the Roberts and Bud took the lead. "We wrote a program that bypassed the need for a password. There's no smoking gun in any of the documents but there is some very interesting information all the same…"_

"Well, don't keep us on tenterhooks, Lieutenant. Tell us what you found!" A.J. ordered.

"Yes sir. Well, first off, Pirelli _was_ working on the R&D of the missile guidance system the SECNAV is alleged to have taken bribes to support."

"We already assumed that Bud," Harm said impatiently. "What else?"

"I'm coming to that Sir. The interesting thing is his email account. That shows he regularly emailed detailed reports on his dates with Ms. Cheung to Sensa-Tech's IP address."

Harriet took up the story, "We did some more digging and identified the recipient as Preston Gunn, their Chief of Security."

Mac sat back, "Assuming he wasn't into kiss and tell; that indicates his interest in Ms Cheung was business rather than personal."

"It looks that way, Ma'am." Bud confirmed. "Especially as the reports concentrate on what she told him about the activities of Mr. Sheffield's Senate office, there's hardly anything about Ms. Cheung herself in them."

"So, Pirelli was pumping Ms Cheung for information they could use to persuade Sheffield to support their system." A.J. noted in disgust. "It shows the lengths Sensa-Tech were prepared to go to get their system selected and what a lowlife Pirelli himself was, but, I don't see how any of this helps the SECNAV. If anything, it shows Sensa-Tech had identified him as a key player and how important it was for them to have him on side. The prosecution will argue they eventually got desperate enough to bribe him."

"Pirelli hadn't entirely lost all sense of decency, sir." Harriet said. "His emails show he protested about what he was asked to do several times and threatened to stop. In his responses, Gunn doesn't say so specifically but he implies that if he didn't continue, Sensa-Tech would take away his scholarship. Given his financial situation, he would have had to withdraw from his degree course if that had happened."

"So, his career was more important to him than his sense of morality. It doesn't say much about his character." A.J. grunted. "Anything else?"

Bud smiled, "Shortly after Commander Turner left Ms Cheung, he emailed Gunn asking for an urgent meeting. He said she'd rung to tell him that someone would be contacting him about Mr. Sheffield's meeting with George Cleever at the Kennedy Center. He wanted instructions. Gunn replied saying he'd be round immediately and he wasn't to speak to anyone until after they'd met. Pirelli's calendar shows a meeting between them and a Myles Darby of Sensa-Tech's PR department a couple of hours later." He turned to Harm, "We managed to find a photo of Mr. Gunn on the internet and he's one of the guys in Mrs. Doran's picture. We assume Myles Darby is the other guy."

"What time did Sturgis finally manage to speak to Pirelli?" Mac asked suddenly alert.

"Not until that evening. He called me straight after." Harm replied, "Well, well, they wanted an opportunity to coach him before he talked to Sturgis. You're right Bud, that's interesting!"

"But, as Lieutenant Roberts pointed out earlier, it's not a smoking gun." A.J. noted. "I'm convinced, but Sensa-Tech could argue there were any number of reasons, including national security, for telling him not to talk to anyone until after he'd spoken to their people."

Mac frowned, "We know the meeting at the Kennedy Center happened, Ms. Cheung and Secretary Sheffield both confirm it but, given what we've just learned, is there any independent evidence that the other meetings between the SECNAV and Mr. Cleever Pirelli says he witnessed actually took place?"

Bud and Harriet looked at each other.

"What were the dates of the alleged meetings again?" Harriet asked.

Harm read off the list, while Harriet tapped on her laptop. When they had finished, she looked up. "OK. His calendar has no entries for most of those dates but on 21st January 2002, when he allegedly saw Mr. Cleever and the SECNAV together in the National Arboretum, it shows he was at Sensa-Tech all day." She tapped the keyboard some more, then shook her head, "There's nothing to say who he met or what he did."

"I'll pass it on to Bernstein but I'm not sure how helpful it will be. The meeting or whatever could have been cancelled at short notice or finished early and Sensa-Tech will likely resist a subpoena to trawl through their records to find out what Pirelli was doing two years ago!"

"They won't have to do that Sir." Bud said. "Their computers are on a network. If anyone put Pirelli's name in their calendar, all their Systems Administrator has to do is type in the date and ask for a list of all entries referring to him."

A.J. paused, "Can our System Admin do that with ours?" he asked with obviously feigned casualness.

"Yes sir." Harriet confirmed and A.J. looked thoughtful for a moment.

"OK. Is there anything else at this stage?" he asked. The others shook their heads. "Fine, thanks for your hospitality Lieutenant's…" He paused for a moment. "Oh, by the way, Bernstein's office is snowed under with Discovery material. I said I'd help to sort and catalogue it and see if anyone else would volunteer…" the Admiral's voice trailed off expectantly.

"I'll help." Harriet replied.

"Me too." Bud said.

"And me." Mac added.

"Count me in." Harm volunteered.

"Thanks everyone…err, obviously this will be in our own time."

"Yes sir." The junior officers chorused.

"Sir, with your permission..."

"Yes Commander?"

"I'd like to go see Darby, see if I can pry something loose from him or, at the very least, scare him enough into making a mistake."

"You're improving Commander; normally you don't ask permission." A.J. considered, then nodded. "See him by all means but take someone with you as a witness and to cover your six. Mr. Darby might be their PR guy but if he brings in Mr. Gunn you could run into trouble."

"I'll go with Har.., Commander Rabb sir." Mac volunteered.

"Fine. Goodnight and thanks once again Harriet."

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**Fletcher and Bernstein Law Offices**

**Washington, D.C.**

**Saturday, 18th May, 15:07 ZULU**

P.O. Jennifer Coates stretched and looked around the busy Conference Room. Not for the first time, she reflected on the way her life had changed for the better in the past three years or so. _If someone had told me then that I'd be sitting in a room, working alongside the Secretary of the Navy and a Rear-Admiral, I'd have laughed in their faces, _she reflected _and it's all down to Commander Rabb. If I hadn't met him, I'd have been kicked out of the Navy and I'd probably be in prison by now!_

Instead, she'd spent the last four hours working with Lieutenant Sims-Roberts to develop a system for registering and tracking the various papers and documents Tony Bernstein had asked for under Discovery. Now this was completed, the massive job of placing the evidence in a logical and coherent order could begin. Across the table, she saw the SECNAV, his wife and daughter, Admiral Chegwidden, Commander Turner and a couple of enlisted personnel from JAG busy sorting the papers into the subject areas they'd identified. The untidy pile of empty boxes in a corner of the room was evidence to their hard work; the vast numbers of boxes still to be opened showed the amount of work still to be done.

Coates knew that if they believed an injustice was taking place Commander Rabb and Admiral Chegwidden would do everything they could to prevent it. She was there because of her personal loyalty to the Commander and her gratitude to the Admiral for giving her a chance despite her record. The reason for the Sheffield family presence was obvious; they had a personal stake in the outcome of the trial. Commander Turner was an old friend of Commander Rabb's, but she wondered what motivated the others. There was always the possibility they were brown-nosing but she knew the atmosphere the Admiral's leadership created at JAG so it was just as likely they were also here out of loyalty and respect for him.

"The lying bastard!"

Coates turned to see the SECNAV staring down angrily at a statement he'd been reading.

He turned to his daughter, "I'm sorry, sweetheart." he apologized.

Amy smiled at him, "Dad, I'm not a little girl anymore, I've heard worse at college. What is it?"

"It's Cleever's statement. He confirms Pirelli's story and says he handed me envelopes containing deposit slips for a numbered Cayman Islands account. Not a word of it is true!"

Tony Bernstein looked up from some papers he'd been reading. "Yes, the prosecution used Pirelli's evidence to turn Cleever. As a result they've changed their trial strategy. They've dumped the camouflaged campaign contributions angle and gone with straight bribery. It's a lot easier for them since they don't have to prove a link between the contributions and your actions."

"It's a tissue of lies!" Sheffield stormed. "What about the go-between they said arranged the campaign contributions as a quid pro quo? Are they now saying he lied?"

"No. Their theory is you took both but they'll concentrate on the straight bribery angle at trial."

"I presume they've offered Cleever a good deal in exchange for his testimony?" When Bernstein nodded, Admiral Chegwidden went on. "It could still be a hard sell for them. At this stage; Cleever would probably say anything to avoid prison and its uncorroborated accomplice testimony."

"I'll be making that point to the jury of course but they still have internal Sensa-Tech memos to back up his story." Bernstein reminded him. He looked at the untouched boxes still overflowing the Conference Room, "As we haven't come across them yet, they must be somewhere in one of those."

As Coates listened, she couldn't help feeling the men were missing an important point. She spoke without thinking. "Excuse me Admiral, but no-one knew about Pirelli until Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie started digging. Doesn't that mean he wasn't part of the original frame up? Maybe someone decided they needed to strengthen the case against the SECNAV and used him to do it. I know the Secretary doesn't have an alibi for the dates in question and they might be able to explain away the apparent contradiction in Mr. Pirelli's calendar, but what about Mr. Cleever's? They haven't had a lot of time to set this up so there could be something in that to blow his story out of the water."

Sheffield, Chegwidden and Bernstein looked at her.

"I guess that was a stupid suggestion." she muttered.

"On the contrary, Petty Officer, it's an excellent idea, "Bernstein said slowly, "I already asked for a copy of his office diary and I presume it's in here somewhere. I'll go back to court and subpoena his personal diary as well."

Admiral Chegwidden's cell rang and he flipped it open. "Kyle, how's it going? It's great to hear from you!"

The others watched as his expression hardened. Finally, he ended the conversation, pursed his lips in thought, then asked for the attention of the naval personnel present. "Everyone, there's something you need to know. That was an old friend of mine in the Inspector-General's Office. He phoned to say the Acting SECNAV has instructed them to start an investigation into possible ethical violations and conflicts of interest at JAG." He paused for a moment, "In the light of this information, if any of you would like to withdraw your offers of assistance, I would understand."

Harriet took the temperature of the room, "Sir, I think I speak for everyone here when I say none of us is leaving." She waited a second to let that sink in. "Well," she added cheerfully, "I suggest we get on. The sooner we have all this logged, the sooner we find the memos and Cleever's office diary!"

Chegwidden looked at his people, "Thank you." he said with simple humility.

The group returned to their work with added determination.

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**U.S. Attorneys Office**

**555 4th Street**

**Washington D.C.**

**Saturday, 18th May, 15:21 ZULU**

Samantha Bruckner looked up from the transcript she was reading as her boss, Deputy U.S. Attorney Paul O'Connell, entered the office.

"Putting in some overtime, Sam?" he greeted her cheerfully.

She gestured towards the papers. "I thought I'd get a jump on these. They're the transcripts of the information the FBI Computer Science lab pulled off Pirelli's computer. They don't make edifying reading. It appears he dated Ms. Cheung on Sensa-Tech's orders just to pump her for information about Sheffield."

O'Connell sat down, "If that's true, it's certainly highly unethical but not actually criminal." he noted.

Sam leaned forward, "But, don't you think it's a little suspicious that he's also the sole eye witness to Sheffield's meetings with Cleever?"

O'Connell shrugged. "Coincidental maybe; suspicious, not necessarily. And what you said isn't really true. Ms. Cheung was also a witness to the Kennedy Center meeting and Cleever himself confirms the rest of Pirelli's story."

Sam looked worried, "I don't know Paul, there's something here that doesn't smell right."

O'Connell adopted a soothing tone, "Look, Sam, before we even knew Pirelli existed, did you have any doubts about Sheffield's guilt?" Seeing her shake her head, he went on, "Is there anything in the documents you've read contradicting Pirelli's story?"

"There's a diary entry showing he had a meeting with Sensa-Tech on one of the dates he said he saw Sheffield and Cleever together but it doesn't show a time so I guess the two aren't mutually incompatible." she responded slowly.

"OK, then. So, why start having doubts now. Just because the guy was a louse doesn't mean he wasn't telling the truth. He's handed us our big fish on a plate, we shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth." He paused and grinned, "And I've just realized the number of animal metaphors I used in that sentence. I must be hungry. I didn't get a chance to have lunch earlier. I was at a meeting with the Acting Secretary of the Navy. He's setting up an enquiry into possible ethical violations by JAG officers resulting from their active support for Sheffield."

"Do you think there's anything in the newspaper stories about some sort of corrupt relationship between Admiral Chegwidden and Sheffield?" Sam asked.

Her boss shrugged, "I'd hate to think so. Chegwidden has an excellent reputation, but, his record shows his sense of loyalty can lead him into making poor decisions. I'd like to think that is all this is. The enquiry will tell us." He looked closely at Sam. "Have you eaten?" he asked. "No? OK. Then let's have a late lunch together." Seeing her glance towards the papers on her desk, he added. "Look, if you're that worried about this apparent discrepancy between Pirelli's story and his calendar entry, you can look into it next week."

Sam smiled and relaxed as she grabbed her coat and followed him out.

**T.B.C.**


	14. Chapter 14

Hi. Sorry for the delay in posting. Work has been really hectic lately. Anyway, I've managed to find the time to update - finally.

Hope you enjoy. Please let me know!

**Chapter 14**

**JAG Headquarters**

**Falls Church, Virginia**

**Monday, 20****th**** May 08:02 ZULU**

Captain James Mohr of the Inspector-General's Office entered the JAG bullpen at the head of his team and looked around. The JAG personnel were staring at him with suspicion and barely hidden contempt. This was a reaction he was used to and he ignored it, concentrating instead on the female Petty Officer who was approaching him. Her manner was professional and businesslike and her uniform was neat and shipshape, with nothing to draw adverse comment from even the most demanding drill instructor. Normally, he would have been impressed but he recognized her from his study of the files of key JAG personnel the night before and, knowing her chequered history, decided to defer judgment.

"Good morning Sir." She greeted him. "I'm Petty Officer Coates, Admiral Chegwidden's yeoman. The Admiral would like to see you before you start your inspection."

Mohr nodded his understanding and agreement, "Captain Mohr." he introduced himself. "I'd like my staff to start work while I'm seeing the Admiral. Do you have some spare office space they can use?"

Coates smiled at him, apparently confident they would find nothing amiss. "The Admiral has said you can use the main conference room for the duration of the Inspection." she said. She turned her head slightly, "Ziegler, please show the Inspection Team to the Conference Room." Turning back to him, she added, "The Admiral's in his office, Sir. If you'd come this way." She turned and he followed her through the bullpen until they came to a small ante room with an unoccupied workstation and a door leading off it. Coates knocked and on receiving an instruction to enter, opened the door and ushered Mohr in.

"Captain Mohr from the Inspector-General's Office, Sir." she said before closing the door and leaving him alone with the Admiral.

Mohr crossed the room as the admiral stood up to greet him. As he did so, he noted the SEAL insignia shining brightly on the other man's left breast. Although his own was bare, he didn't let that intimidate him. He might not have seen active service but, as far as he was concerned, his job was just as important as that performed by operational officers.

On reaching the desk, Mohr drew himself to attention. Although he hadn't been told the political reasons behind the Inspection, he was experienced in the ways of Washington and had been able to fill in the blanks himself. He knew he was expected to find problems with the way JAG was administered. That, in itself, wouldn't be an issue. He had never yet conducted an inspection where nothing could be improved on. Normally that didn't concern him. The report would be written, he'd make recommendations, an implementation plan would be put in place and the required improvements would take place. On this occasion, however, he knew his report would be used to destroy the Admiral and possibly other JAG personnel as well. That gave him a bad taste in his mouth, but he kept on reminding himself that he had his career to consider. _Just do your job!_ He reminded himself firmly. _It's no concern of yours how the information is used!_

"Captain Mohr, welcome to JAG." Admiral Chegwidden smiled genially as he shook his hand.

"Good morning Sir." He replied respectfully, maintaining the fiction this was a perfectly normal inspection.

Chegwidden waved him to an easy chair and sat down opposite him. "We'll do everything we can to assist you and your team but, as I'm sure you understand, we have trials to run and filing deadlines to meet. I must therefore ask that any requests for documents or interviews with any of my people be passed through my Yeoman. She can review court dockets and individual schedules and liaise with you to minimize any disruption to the administration of justice."

_And allow you to know where my investigation is focusing _Mohr thought. On the other hand, it wasn't an unreasonable request and, given the size of the office, it wouldn't be difficult to obtain that information anyway.

He smiled, "Of course Sir."

Chegwidden nodded and smiled again. "Well, Captain, I won't keep you from your duties."

Mohr recognized the dismissal and rose from his chair. He was half way across the room when Chegwidden's voice stopped him.

"Captain, just one more thing; as the OC here I am responsible for everything that happens. I hope you bear that in mind when you come to write your report."

Mohr turned at the door and, once again, drew himself to attention. "Noted Sir." He replied stiffly, then left. As he walked through the anteroom and looked about for some sign of the Conference Room his head was spinning. _He knows this is intended as a hatchet job and he's trying to protect his officers and ratings. _He wondered if he would be prepared to sacrifice himself for his team and didn't like the answer his conscience gave him.

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**Sensa-Tech **

**Frederick**

**Maryland**

**Monday, 20****th**** May 18:04 ZULU**

"Colonel Mackenzie, Commander Rabb, pleased to meet you. How can Sensa-Tech help JAG?" Myles Darby came from behind his desk to shake the hands of his visitors, then invited them to sit down.

"Actually Mr. Darby we're here as private citizens." Harm replied, indicating his and Mac's civvies.

"Oh?" Darby sat back in his chair, leaned his elbows on the arm rests and locked his fingers in front of his chin.

Mac nodded, "We were doing some digging into the allegations against the SECNAV, just out of curiosity you understand, when we came on a connection between the alleged eye-witness to the crimes and your corporation. Given that Mr. Sheffield is charged with receiving bribes from Sensa-Tech, it seems like an almost unbelievable co-incidence that the only person to actually see money change hands was one of your own employees."

Darby nodded and his expression transmuted into one of sorrow. "Poor Tom, his murder is a tragedy, not only for his family and friends but for the entire field of I.S. development. He was a very talented young man. I do hope the rumours are wrong and Sheffield wasn't involved in his death."

"Oh, we're sure he wasn't." Harm observed. "Which raises the question of who else would benefit from him not being able to give evidence at trial?"

Darby's expression hardened. "I hope, Commander, you're not implying that Sensa-Tech was in any way involved, because, if you are, I'd strongly advise you to be careful about repeating such an allegation publicly. As a lawyer you must know the penalties for slander."

"We're not making any allegations, Mr. Darby." Mac intervened, "We're just indulging in some idle speculation here in the privacy of this office. After all there are two parties in any bribery case, the bribe taker and the bribe giver."

"Colonel Mackenzie," the P.R. man replied, "our lawyers have advised us not to comment on the specifics of this case until after the trial. In the circumstances, however, I feel I can assure you that Sensa-Tech does not break the law and does not condone the commission of crime by others. It appears clear from the evidence that several of our senior employees bribed a number of public officials, then Senator Sheffield among them. However, they did so without the knowledge and consent of the Sensa-Tech Board. Our corporate commitment to high standards of honesty and integrity was demonstrated when we terminated the employment of the individuals concerned as soon as they were indicted."

"I see." Harm murmured sarcastically, "If Sensa-Tech takes such a strong ethical position isn't it strange your executives felt safe conducting their conspiracy through your computer system?"

Darby gave him a hard stare, "The case raised a number of issues, one of which was, indeed, the need to monitor communications between senior executives for compliance with our ethical corporate policies. We are addressing those urgently."

"Why did you order Pirelli not to talk to Commander Turner before he'd spoken to you and Preston Gunn?" Mac suddenly rapped out.

The door to the office opened and Preston Gunn strode in. "Myles, I just need to talk to you…Oh! I didn't know you had guests."

"Pres, this is Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb of JAG. They have some rather imaginative theories about Sensa-Tech's role in the Sheffield bribery scandal and the murder of poor Tom Pirelli. Colonel, Commander, Preston Gunn, our Head of Security." Darby performed the introductions.

"We were just talking about you Mr. Gunn. What a coincidence, you walking in at this moment!" Harm noted.

"Yeah, they happen more often than people believe." Gunn responded. "How did my name come up?"

"The meeting we had with Tom before he came forward with the evidence against Sheffield." Darby explained. "The Colonel and Commander seemed to be implying there was something improper about it."

Gunn laughed. "That's a joke! Look, there were national security concerns. Tom was working on a number of classified projects and we needed to remind him not to reveal classified information when he was questioned. I admit we were also concerned about Sensa-Tech's reputation. The media was in a feeding frenzy and we didn't see any benefit in throwing them any more bones. That's all there was to it. Now, if there's nothing else, Myles and I really need to get back to work."

"One of those classified projects being the missile guidance system involved in the corruption allegations against Secretary Sheffield?" Mac questioned.

Darby and Gunn looked at each other. It was Gunn who answered.

"I assume you already know that, or you wouldn't have asked the question." he responded. "But so what?"

"Oh nothing, just an observation." Harm said. "Perhaps you can help with something else. According to Mr. Pirelli's statement, he saw George Cleever pass the SECNAV an envelope at the National Arboretum on 21st January 2002 but, we have information that he was actually at an all day meeting here at Sensa-Tech on that date."

Both naval officers saw that this had hit home. Darby paled and looked like he'd been hit in the stomach, Gunn blinked but recovered quickly.

"Interesting." he noted neutrally. "May I ask how you obtained this information?"

"We have our sources." Mac replied carefully.

"I see, well, we'll look into it but I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation."

Harm briefly considered telling the two Sensa-Tech officials that Sheffield's lawyer was also aware of the discrepancy and intended to subpoena Cleever's personal diary so he could gauge their reaction, but decided not to. At this stage, information was hard currency and needed to be given out sparingly.

He looked at his partner and saw she had understood what had passed through his mind and agreed with the decision, "Well," he said, "I think that's all. Thanks for seeing us. We're sorry to have disturbed you. We'll show ourselves out."

The two officers' got up, shook hands with the Sensa-Tech executives and walked out. They called an elevator got in and, passed through the entrance lobby, out of the building. As they were walking down the path towards the parking area, Harm suddenly grabbed Mac's arm and pulled her into the shelter of some nearby ornamental greenery.

Mac opened her mouth to make some quip but saw Harm put his finger to his lips, then point towards the direction they had been walking. As Mac watched, she saw Samantha Bruckner walk purposefully past their hiding place.

"Not like you to need to hide from your former conquests, flyboy" she said as Bruckner disappeared into the building.

Harm grinned at her, "Normally I'm as pleased to see them as they are to see me." he agreed. "I just didn't want her to know we had been here. She would only have wanted to know why."

"She's probably going to speak to Darby and Gunn. They'll tell her we were here anyway."

"Yeah, but it'll buy us some time to see if we get any follow through from them to that last piece of information!"

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After shaking hands with Harm and Mac Gunn and Darby stood watching them as they entered the elevator. Once they had disappeared, Darby turned to Gunn, panic in his eyes.

"They know it's a set up! It's all falling apart!"

Gunn looked at him, his contempt for the other man's panic showing clearly, "Pull yourself together!" he growled. "It's not over yet!"

He got out his cell phone and hit speed dial. "Phil, the man and woman who are just leaving, I want them to have an accident on their way back to D.C. Yes, a serious one; in fact, the more serious the better. I'll leave the details to you, OK."

He flipped the instrument closed. "That should deal with the matter. You see, Myles, every problem has a solution if you are prepared to go right to its heart and cut it out."

**T.B.C. **


	15. Chapter 15

Hi all! A new chapter is finally here. Hope you enjoy!

Just in case anyone doesn't know - S.O.P. stands for Standard Operating Procedure.

**Chapter 15**

**Sensa-Tech **

**Frederick**

**Maryland**

**Monday, 20****th**** May 18:12 ZULU**

Ms. Bruckner. Nice to see you again." Preston Gunn smiled broadly as he greeted the Assistant U.S. Attorney.

"Mr. Gunn." Samantha shook hands with the Sensa-Tech Chief of Security and sat down.

"I assume your visit is connected with the case and I want to assure you, once again, that we at Sensa-Tech will co-operate fully with your office." Gunn went on as he took a seat behind his desk.

"Thank you." Sam replied. "We're grateful for your assistance. I just have a few more questions…"

Gunn spread his hands in an invitation for her to continue.

She took up the offer, "The D.C. police seized Mr. Pirelli's personal laptop as part of their investigation into his murder. Because of possible linkage with our case against Secretary Sheffield and the others they passed copies of the files on it to us, including a copy of his calendar. When I reviewed it, I noticed that he had a meeting scheduled here on 21st January 2002. That would appear to contradict his sworn statement that he was at the National Arboretum that day where he witnessed George Cleever bribe Mr. Sheffield. I was wondering if you could provide an explanation."

Gunn sat back and appeared to consider the question. "I'm sure there is one." He said, "But, off hand, I can't tell you for sure what it is. Possibly the meeting was cancelled and Tom didn't remove it from his calendar or maybe it finished earlier than he'd expected. I'll make some enquiries. Do you know who else was meant to be at the meeting?"

Sam shook her head.

"OK. I'll ask around and get back to you when I know something. Is there anything else?"

"No, not at the moment." she responded.

"Well, it's been a pleasure. Anything else Sensa-Tech can do for your office, just let me know!" As he spoke, Gunn rose from his desk and gently steered Sam towards the lift lobby. He pushed the call button on the lift and, when the door opened, encouraged her to enter. As the doors closed, he added, "I'll be in touch shortly."

As soon as the doors were firmly shut, he dived for his cell and hit speed dial, the number began ringing and he waited impatiently for an answer. "Answer the phone, Phil. For God's sake, answer the God damned phone!" he muttered, under his breath.

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**Route 355**

**Frederick**

**Maryland**

**Monday, 20****th**** May 18:29 ZULU**

Mac glanced out of the car and saw a sign indicating the way to the Antietam Battlefield. With a start, she remembered that Gettysburg was only 30 or so miles to the north of Frederick and Harper's Ferry 20 miles to the west. She looked around at the urban clutter of stores, gas stations and fast food restaurants stretching down both sides of the street.

"It's hard to believe that a hundred and fifty years ago, thousands of Americans were fighting and killing each other only a few miles from here." she observed, her mood becoming pensive.

Harm grunted. The south bound traffic this time of the day was lighter than that coming in the opposite direction but there were sufficient other vehicles heading towards D.C. to take up a good part of his attention. "What amazes me is how close the South got to Washington." he finally said. "Only forty five miles!"

Mac nodded agreement, "Of course, that would have been a two day journey back then, but even so."

Her partner braked to allow a car to pull out of a side turning into the stream of traffic. "It'll soon take that long again, if the number of vehicles on the road keeps increasing like it is." he grumbled. "What the heck!"

A car pulled out behind them and sped forward through the narrow gap between the slow moving line of cars and the sidewalk.

"What does that maniac think he's doing?" the pilot turned lawyer exclaimed.

As the car drew level, Harm and Mac saw the dark, vicious looking muzzle of a gun point out from the driver's side window. The weapon was pointed low and slightly behind them. There was a dry crack, followed by a louder one and the back of the car lurched to one side.

"He's shot out the back tyre!" Mac shouted as Harm struggled for control.

As she continued to watch, the other car drew up a little and the gun fired again, this time hitting the front tyre. Their vehicle spun out of control, crossing the central line into the oncoming traffic as Harm continued to fight the motion of the vehicle. As she watched, she saw an SUV heading straight towards her. She could see the man behind the wheel braking and trying desperately to steer his car away but it was too close. The next thing she felt was a loud thud as 7000 lbs of metal hit her side of the vehicle. The car was pushed forward several feet. The door buckled, then gave and she felt something sharp pierce her side. She bit back a scream. The windscreen shattered and she felt a swarm of pinpricks on her face, which was suddenly damp and sticky. Then, there was a smaller bump, as the car behind the SUV shunted into it and everything went black.

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Harm thanked God, both he and Mac had belted up as he fought to control his vehicle. There was a loud crash, sending it spinning across the road. He was tempted to check if Mac was OK but ignored the urge. The priority now was to get out of the traffic and bring the vehicle safely to rest somewhere. Only then could he allow himself the luxury of seeing if his partner was all right. Finally, using the impetus provided by the crash, he brought the vehicle up on the sidewalk, braked fiercely and switched off the engine.

He sighed with relief, then turned towards the passenger side. Mac was lying unconscious. She was still wearing her seatbelt, but the door had been torn violently from its moorings and a jagged piece of metal, still attached to it, was jutting from her side. Her face was stained scarlet with blood.

"Mac! Oh God! No!" he cried. He turned to the host of bystanders who were racing towards the scene. "Call 911 immediately. We need an ambulance!" He snapped. He watched as several people took out their cells and began dialling, then leaned over and cradled Mac's head in his arms, careful not to disturb the metal prong knifing through her side. Ironically, the very object that had caused her injury could very possibly now be the only thing standing between her and further blood loss. "Don't die on me, jarhead." he begged. "Please don't die, I couldn't bear it."

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**Frederick Memorial Hospital**

**Frederick**

**Maryland**

**Monday, 20****th**** May 21:13 ZULU**

Admiral Chegwidden strode purposely along the bright, antiseptic corridor towards the private room the reception clerk had directed him to. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the familiar figures of Bud and Harriet Roberts sitting patiently in the visitors lounge. He entered and they rose to meet him, instinctively stiffening to attention even though they were all dressed in civilian clothes.

"How is she?" he asked.

"She'll be fine Sir." Bud replied. "Apparently it looked a lot worse than it actually was. They want to keep her in for a few days just to be on the safe side. Then she just needs to take it easy for a few weeks. She's still sedated from when they removed the metal spear. Commander Rabb's with her and we didn't want to disturb them."

Seeing Harriet blush slightly, A.J. allowed his curiosity to get the better of him and he wandered out towards Mac's room. Reaching the doorway, he glanced in. Harm was sitting by the side of the bed, holding his partner's hand tightly in his own. He was speaking softly to her.

"Mac. I'm so glad you're going to be OK. If anything had happened to you… I don't know what I would have done!"

A.J. watched as Harm half rose and tenderly brushed a stray hair away from her face, then embarrassed at witnessing such a personal moment, he beat a retreat back to the visitors lounge to find Bud and Harriet had been joined by Secretary Sheffield.

All three turned towards him as he entered.

"She's still out of it." he reported in a loud voice. "I thought it best to give her some space. She won't want to feel crowded when she comes round!"

Sheffield nodded. "How did it happen?" he asked. "You mentioned the car they were in was shot at?"

"Yes. On their way back to D.C. after visiting Sensa-Tech."

"I know you said they were going to rattle some cages and see if they got a reaction." Sheffield observed, "But I never expected anything like this. Did you, A.J.?"

"No." the Admiral agreed. "But I guess we shouldn't be surprised. We already know whoever's behind this is prepared to kill to make sure their frame of you sticks tight."

Sheffield nodded again, this time more somberly. "Thank Heaven Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb weren't more seriously hurt." he said. "Well." he added, with dark humor, "At least it confirms Gunn and Darby are involved. The only question is in what? Why are they so desperate to see me sent to prison?"

"Excuse me Sir, but could it be revenge?" Harriet asked nervously. "After all, former SECNAV Nelson is a Director of Sensa-Tech."

Sheffield frowned, "It's possible," he decided, "It would be his SOP but there must be more. There are too many people involved for it just to be personal."

The discussion was interrupted as light footsteps hurried towards them and Samantha Bruckner burst into the lounge. She drew up short when she saw Sheffield there. Then ignored him, turning to Chegwidden, "I heard Har…Commander Rabb was involved in a shooting. Is he OK?"

"He's fine. Colonel Mackenzie was more badly injured but she'll be OK too." The Admiral re-assured her. "How did you hear about it?"

I was driving back from Sensa-Tech when I was contacted by Detective Coster. The Frederick P.D. contacted the D.C. police for background information on Commander Rabb and Colonel Mackenzie."

Realizing she'd said too much, her mouth snapped shut and she looked angrily at Sheffield as if blaming him for what had happened.

T.B.C.


End file.
